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songsofadelaide · 7 months ago

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Radiant Point

cw/tw: Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro x Platoon Leader (f) reader, childhood friends to [one-sided sworn rivalry] to lovers, no use of yn and instead follows my usual naming convention (I use Otome as a placeholder for yn since it means maiden, which pretty much means yn too), time skips, Kendo and Fencing references, arranged marriages and family traditions and breaking said family traditions - requited unrequited love. ✦ based on my other Soshiro piece, Raging Tempest wc: 8.2k

"It was said that the gods tie a crimson string around the pinky fingers of those predestined to be together."

You recall the quiet night when your mother first said those words to you, as though reading you a fairy tale of old. Years ago, you were but a child who believed in such things. And perhaps your mother would weep at how realistic you've grown, rather than remaining a dreamy-eyed girl with her head in the clouds.

As a daughter of the esteemed Koganei Family, whose extensive roots ran deep back into the Muromachi Era, you were expected to uphold your clan's sterling heritage and reputation by marrying a man of equally exceptional status. There was but one family that your clan had close ties to, for your ancestors fought for the same masters of old, defeated the same ancient monstrosities, and won the same battles of the past alongside each other— brothers in arms, as they were in the past, and even until now…

That is how you came to be the bride of the eldest son of the Hoshina Family.

Soshiro knows that. He knows that you were the bride-to-be of the esteemed first son of their house. He knows that fact well enough as though it was etched in the back of his hand, and yet…

"You have changed me already. I am a fireball That is hurtling towards the sky to where you are You can choose not to look up but I am a giant orange ball That is throwing sparks upon your face Oh look at them shake Upon you like a great planet that has been murdered by change— —And when you come upon me I won't look back at you You will feel a hand upon your heart while I place your voice back Into the heart from where it came from And I will not cry also Although you will expect me to I was wiser too than you had expected For I knew all along you were mine." — Poem To An Unnameable Man, Dorothea Lasky

"It was said that the gods tie a crimson string around the pinky fingers of those predestined to be together."

That is how you came to be the bride of the eldest son of the Hoshina Family.

Your families said it was an auspicious union— and a rare one, too, for, despite your clan's aged and storied history with this fellow clan of swordsmen, the possibilities of marriages between the two were always slim at best. There would always be extraordinary rivalries born out of their sons' mutual respect, but seldom would there be any engagements between them and their daughters.

There was a time you believed in the red string of fate— and how it made sense to you that you would marry one of the Hoshina sons… But only because you've been told that all your life. And maybe you would have fallen in love with the son that was ordained to be your husband in the future had he acknowledged you, or made himself known to you.

Tough luck getting that to happen. Soichiro didn't even acknowledge his own younger brother.

You first met Soichiro when you were children at the Hoshina Estate, his back facing you, not a care in the world whether or not you were able to follow his steps. His haori and hakama were mottled with dirt, evidence of his long hours of sword training. The older boy's dismissal of your presence made you question how exactly your match became an auspicious one, given his… carelessness. To think that your mother and the rest of your house's ladies spent all morning dressing you up, only to be ignored by your betrothed the moment you arrived.

You couldn't fault him for his reaction. Soichiro was a boy, after all, and heir to his esteemed house in the future. He had much to prove if he were to stand at the helm of everything, while you…

What exactly did you have to do? Just sit pretty? Or perhaps squeeze out an equally exceptional heir? That won't happen until later in your life and your marriage. Then again, will that marriage ever come to pass if he doesn't even pay any attention to you?

Were you not… pretty enough for him? Now that you thought about it, his silver hair was, in fact, much prettier than yours, but your annoyance at the situation made you want to pull his braid to maybe knock some sense into him…? You were deep in thought when you realised you lost sight of him as he vanished into one of their family's houses.

From across the estate, you could hear the sound of wooden swords clashing, a testament to this family's continued commitment to the way of the swordsman. It made you wonder if your family was in the wrong for wrapping you up like a present for a boy who held no passion for fanciful romances… Or if he was ever told about your arrival— who you were and what your presence meant for him.

You were told that the sons of the Hoshina Family were considerate and good-natured, but the way your betrothed refused to greet you or even meet your eyes earlier said otherwise. And to think that you were so nervous about this visit… The loneliness was stifling. The excitement that coursed through you this morning when your mother dressed you in your new kimono had finally died down. You didn't want to cry, but the tears welled in the corners of your eyes, hot and blurring your vision.

If this kind of life awaited me, then I don't want it.

You hurriedly wiped away your tears when you heard footsteps approaching you, though it was too late, for a boy your age caught your hand before you could even run off.

"You must be the girl my brother's going to marry in the future."

Brother?

So this was the second son of the Hoshina Family.

"If you aren't doing anything, why don'tcha swing a sword at me instead?"

???

Soshiro had the same dirt of the land speckled all over his training clothes. In his hands were two shinai, the other stretched out to you.

"I don't really know how to—"

"What?! I was told the Koganei were great swordsmen! Ah, but then again, you're a girl, so I guess ya don't count."

His evident surprise made your brows furrow in frustration. What did he mean by that?

"On second thought, give me that. I'll take a swing at you. How hard could it be?"

Swinging a sword at a more experienced person was indeed hard. Coupled with his speed and footwork, albeit a little slap-dashed, your opponent wasn't someone you could land a hit on as easily as you expected.

"Fix yer stance if you're gonna swing!"

You lost track of how many times you've swung the bamboo sword at him, nary a care at how your pretty hair accessories and kimono nearly came undone at your sharp and sudden movements. All that mattered to you was landing a hit at your opponent, the dirt of the land that reached your face not at all bothering you.

"Yaaah! Ack!"

Your lunge was cut short when the master of the house wedged himself between you and his younger son. You unceremoniously bounced off the older man's legs, falling to the ground with a dull thud in complete and total surprise. Yet all you could think of was retrieving your shinai and rising to your feet.

"Your father is here to take you home, ojou-san," the older man stated as he helped you to your feet, his other hand reaching out to gently pry away the sword in your smaller hand. It was only when you saw your father's silhouette approach from behind that your exhilaration turned into indignation.

"Otou-san, you—!" You exclaimed, charging at your father with the same sword in hand. "You need to teach me swordsmanship! I can't believe you didn't teach me in the first place…! I must study it now!"

Your fathers exchanged confused glances before yours decided to speak up. "Otome, you—"

Only for him to be cut off by your voice slicing through the silence of the training ground.

"Until then, you need to keep getting better, too, Soshiro-kun!" You declared to your opponent, who had a knowing smile on his face. "I will catch up to you!"

When you returned to the Hoshina Estate months later, you were no longer decked out in a beautiful silk kimono, but rather in training garb similar to what the two brothers wore. Emblazoned on the back of your haori was your family's mon, and strapped to your side was a weathered shinai you've obviously swung around a hundred times since your last visit there.

"Soshiro-kun, I've been practising! My father taught me Shomen-Uchi, too! I can take you on now!"

As he thought, the look of delight on your face suited you better than tears. Soshiro watched in awe as you were able to hold your own against Soichiro, only for his older brother to topple you over with his sheer strength and advantage in skill.

"You're leavin' yourself wide open in other areas, but other than that, your stance is perfect."

The older son finally acknowledged you, but you had no need of it anymore since it was the company of the younger son you looked forward to even more whenever you visited their home.

For Soshiro, the sound of your voice calling his name and all of his attention so you could spar was like melodious music to him. It was the two of you who grew closer, and the two of you were often on the receiving end of Soichiro's disparaging remarks whenever you both lost to him while sparring.

"When Otome-chan marries your older brother, she will become your sister-in-law," his father once told him ahead of your next visit to their estate. "You focus on training on your own. Soichiro will train with her this time around."

Soshiro knows that. He knows that you were the bride-to-be of the esteemed first son of their house. He knows that fact well enough as though it was etched in the back of his hand, and yet…

There was an image in the back of Soshiro's mind that he couldn't forget, no matter how much he tried. A girl in a gold-coloured kimono sewn with the finest thread, a floral kanzashi in her hair as she tried to fight tears in one of the corners of his family's estate. Moments later, she was swinging a shinai at him, her eyes kindled with a fiery passion and a smile on her face as she tried to catch up to him.

Something changed when you went your separate ways to different high schools. When you were both sixteen, you decided to abandon the ways of Kendo for another form of swordcraft— Fencing. It was such a sharp turn that surprised even your family, but they could hardly stop your meteoric rise to prominence in the sport.

Something else always came to mind whenever Soshiro thought about you. He remembered your prostrated figure before his father in their family home, your forehead reaching the tatami as you uttered, "I thank you and your family for your kindness to me, and I apologise, oji-san, but I don't want to marry Soichiro-san."

When you met again not long after that incident, you laughed as you told him how you got a really bad walloping from your father. You shocked him with the bruises on your torso, all from the blunt end of your father's favourite bokken, but he was more pleased to see your spirit remained unbroken as you wheezed in breathless merriment, telling him, "you should see my father".

With your engagement to Soichiro unceremoniously broken off and the Hoshina Family accepting your dismissal of their eldest son, your family held very little resistance to whatever it is you wanted to do with your life now. They permitted you to go to France when you said you wanted to perfect your fencing form because there was no other way you could disobey them more. Your family told you that, "brilliant women rarely made good wives, but good wives can learn to become brilliant women", or something along those lines, and it seems as though they've given up on finding marriage matches for you.

Soshiro was unable to accompany you to the airport ahead of your trip to France. You didn't mind, though you were a little upset. Neutralization College wasn't something you could leave whenever you wanted if you were truly serious about entering the Defense Force. He was still the first one you messaged when you touched down in France, counting the time difference in your head as you opened WhatsApp on your mobile phone.

[ YN: 🗼-> Eiffel Tower ]

[ H. Soshiro-さん: 😂😂😂 Glad you made it there in one piece! ]

"To Hoshina Soshiro-隊員,

How are you? Paris is unsurprisingly beige. I miss Tokyo every once in a while, but not having to hear my father's nitpicking is more pleasant than I thought.

I know we can always just message each other on WhatsApp, but letters are pretty ingenious again this time around.

As I thought, there are many skilled sabreuses here in Paris. The club that I joined is called ASA Maisons-Alfort Escrime, somewhere along the south of the city. This town is famous for its veterinary school. Should I ever want a career change, I think I'll know what to do next! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Congratulations on passing the Defense Force Selection Exam! I know for a fact that you are going to do an excellent job just like your father and your brother. From what I've been hearing from my father, though, it seems the force is slowly moving away from the primary use of swords and blades. Still, I hope you aren't discouraged. You've always wanted to be an officer, so I'm proud of you for reaching the first of your many more goals!

I hope you're always taking care of yourself, too."

…

"The wine here is good, too, but you know I'd rather be drinking beer back at home with you. If anything, I like the wine because it reminds me so much of your eyes. And perhaps how I wish I could swim in them and maybe read your thoughts while I'm at it."

…

"I miss you, Soshiro."

Soshiro sometimes thinks it may be his fault that you changed. But then again, you were already a brilliant girl in your own right, and perhaps too smart for your own good. Men of old clans always wanted docile, unassuming women for themselves so their decisions would never be questioned, but you were neither, thus never fitting into your society's mould of how women should be. He wasn't aware of his older brother's preferences, but it was safe to say that he was consistent in never really caring that much about you.

"Dear Koganei Otome-選手,

I hope you're well! Just as you have no lack of fine opponents in France, there's no lack of Kaiju attacks here at home. There's never a dull moment here in Japan as long as we're always at the centre of monster sightings.

Remember when I last told you that swordsmanship is slowly losing its foothold in the Defense Force? Something amazing just happened. The Captain of the Third Division asked me to join her force. She did so herself! It feels almost unreal how the whole thing happened, but here I am.

…I never got to write about how I almost died that time, too, because I know for sure that you'd get worried and start calling. I'm fine now, so don't you worry your pretty little head about me. ദ്ദി ( ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ )

Are you taking care of yourself? I hope you're always eating well. And doing proper cooldown exercises after training. Whether it be Kendo or Fencing, taking care of yourself and your sword arm is paramount for us swordsmen.

Just the other day, I went out drinking with my men. The beer here at home is exceptional, as always, and it tastes even better as the cherry on top after a long day of exterminating Kaiju. I feel a little bad for you for only having wine to drink there. They say it's sweeter but stronger. Strange enough, it kind of reminds me of you, too."

…

"I miss you a lot."

At one point, your letters stopped arriving. Your Line and WhatsApp exchanges were less frequent, too. And though you did your best to stay on top of what's been going on with Soshiro, your growth in your sport was something you prioritised more than waiting for his sparse replies.

He had just been promoted to Vice Captain of the Third Division when he saw your name on the top of the list of Japanese athletes on the International Fencing Federation's website. His promotion meant he'd be much busier, but like you, he did his best to check up on what you've been up to, especially for the last few years.

There was no stopping your meteoric ascent to the ranks, and you stood onstage amongst the best swordsmen and swordswomen in the world. Though not in the way he expected, it was still an extraordinary achievement for him.

That's no surprise, he thought to himself, only for the rest to be drowned out by the pounding, resounding blare of the Third Division Base's alarm, which could only signify yet another Kaiju attack they had to get on top of.

As the Vice Captain of the prominent Third Division, Soshiro was tasked with overseeing the second part of the yearly Selection Exam. Each hopeful that passed and came in became their little fledgelings, some more promising than others.

This year was a little strange, though, since even the top brass were muttering something about an elite athlete taking the exams. Athletes usually scored high on the physical tests but tend to flip-flop on the aptitude tests, depending on what it was. It was only after receiving this year's list of candidates that the whispers finally made sense to him.

Mixed in between the fresh graduates and the more experienced examinees was your application form, bookmarked with a recommendation by the Japan Fencing Federation. And all the whispers were right about one thing, too— You would have to carve a space into this new era of the Defense Force, which has slowly stepped away from blade work as a primary form of combat.

Soshiro wasn't surprised. Even though he was at the receiving end of many discouraging comments due to his poor marksmanship, Captain Ashiro Mina herself saw his potential and value in his skill. He's heard it before, and the officers will not be kind to you just because you brought home some medals for the country. For everyone else, whatever skill with a sabre you have would prove useless, seeing the force's growing preference for automatic firearms.

As he expected, you scored well in your physical tests, but he was faintly holding his breath for the aptitude test, which involved Kaiju disposal this time around. As the hopefuls suited up into the provided combat suits, the systems and machines lit up in anticipation of a surge of power from each present.

UNLEASHED COMBAT POWER: 27%

Soshiro had the same knowing smile on his face as your preliminary combat power was announced out loud. Most examinees would reach a maximum of 5% to 15%, so for someone to score that high on their first try was worth noting.

You were slightly older than most of your fellow examinees, so you had no problem taking on a leadership role— you helped maintain an organised field, ensured everyone had the proper precautionary gear equipped, and coordinated with everyone willing to cooperate with you.

From where he stood inside the base's Operations Control Room, he tried his darndest to stifle his laughter whenever he heard a French swear word slip out from one of the examinees. And even until the end of the test, you took no credit for your class's effort. Some have taken a shine to you while others considered you a goody-two-shoes trying to worm her way into the Defense Force with clerical expertise.

It was no surprise that you even caught the eyes of the Third Division's existing Platoon Leaders. They took your athletic and leadership experience into account when they deliberated your application. Your marksmanship was mediocre at best, but it was nothing continuous training can't improve. The other thing they couldn't ignore was the fact that you received a commendation from the Captain of the Sixth Division.

A curious thing, if they were being honest. Division Captains rarely get involved in the exams and deliberations, so for someone like you to receive such a prestigious recommendation meant you were someone worth investing in.

Soshiro eyed the document from the Sixth Division before eventually tucking it away in the rest of his files. They didn't need that commendation to know that you were skilled, and you had all the time in the world to sharpen those even further.

[ H. Soshiro-副隊長: Your uniform looks good on you. ]

[ YN: Not even an hour in the job and you're already flirting with me, Vice Captain? 😂 ]

[ YN: Also, it's the other way around. I look in the uniform. Though I'm sure that's what you meant to say. ]

[ H. Soshiro-副隊長: What if I made you run laps after the ceremony? You wouldn't be laughing then, would you? ]

[ YN: I'm going to report you to the Captain. ]

[ H. Soshiro-副隊長: And you think she'd take a rookie's word over her own Vice Captain's? 😂 ]

[ H. Soshiro-副隊長: You're lucky you're so, so pretty today. I'll go easy on you. For now, my li'l fledgeling. 😂 ]

In every mission, you endeavoured to accomplish every task as swiftly and efficiently as possible— without breaking ranks, of course. Your tenacity was rewarded in the form of a promotion to Platoon Leader, an unexpected but welcomed opportunity. Soshiro seemed to agree with the Captain that other officers could stand to learn a thing or two from you.

They say a radiant point is the track of light in the sky from which meteors appear to come from.

Your leadership has been compared to that. Many say your commands are always easy to follow, and your team members are easily filled with the same courage whenever you take to the field yourself.

It didn't take long for your history with the Vice Captain to come to light, too, all because you slipped up and drunkenly called him by his name during a night of drinking with your squad. Soshiro was the one who explained everything to your teams while you were fast asleep with your head on the table. It happened again when you thought it was just the two of you in the training hall. By the third time, he had you run laps as a consequence of your carelessness.

"Y'know your carelessness is gonna get ya in deeper trouble if this keeps happening in the long run," he told you as he watched you finish your 23rd lap around the training grounds. "Seven more. I know 30's such a measly number fer a seasoned athlete like you, but I suppose I'm being a little lenient since you are my dear childhood friend."

"Childhood friend my a—" You scoffed as you ran past him. You heard him chuckle to himself, followed by a thinly veiled threat.

"Do you want another 30, then? Looks like ya still have a lotta fight in you."

You picked up the pace even faster, his silly laughter rang in your ears as you shouted back your breathy reply. "N-No, sir! I'll…! Be more mindful of… myself! Vice Captain!"

XX August XXXX

"To Hoshina Soshiro-隊員,

I wonder how different things would have been if you were the one betrothed to me instead. Or would you have acted like your brother back then, too?

Clubs are on recess this time of the year. I don't feel too comfortable having this too much time on my hands and not being able to fence. Good thing my lodging has this wide backyard I can

Just the other day, I received a package from my family. It was just some snacks, but imagine my surprise when I saw my father's bokken in the box, too. I wonder how that got through French Immigration.

A wooden sword is so different from a sabre, but holding it made me feel… I dunno, kinda like I'm home or something. Do you remember when you first handed me your sword when we were children? That's when I realised what was missing from my life.

The Koganei are no longer like the Kaiju exterminators of old. I think it has to do with the lack of talented sons being born in our family. We've always had a lot of pride in our history as slayers alongside the Hoshina Family, but I think… I think that's all our family has now.

History.

When I asked him before, my father said he didn't bother teaching me swordsmanship because he feared I would get so many 'ideas' in my head. Like joining the Defense Force. He laments my disobedience, but there's nothing he can do that will make me return to my old ways.

I feel sorry for him that he doesn't have talented sons like you and your brother, just a stubborn daughter with a skill for a sport that's more like art than action. Would he have been happier if I stayed obedient? If I hadn't broken off my engagement to your brother?

My father would have been happy seeing me become Soichiro's wife, but not me. Though I would have agreed to marry into your family if it were you. I like you so much, after all.

I want to say thank you for handing me your sword back then. For introducing me to the sword. And if you'll let me say this, too— for giving me purpose."

…

"I like you a lot, Soshiro."

…

"Some idiot here thought I was single. I mean I AM, but that doesn't mean I want to be all chummy with guys here!"

…

"If you ever ask for my hand in marriage, I'm going to depart from this earth and ascend to the heavens out of sheer happiness—"

XX XX XXXX

"To Hoshina Soshiro-副隊長,

I'm going home in a few months. My father said that my grandfather is refusing treatment. He even said your family visited our estate to pay your respects to the old man. I love my gramps, but when I found out that he was the one who told my father not to teach me swordsmanship, the shine on him kinda dulled.

Izumo Tech sent me an email saying I would receive a 'hero's welcome' once I get back. I'll have to make a courtesy call to them, too. Not every athlete is blessed to have such a generous sponsor. (Not to mention that they've been closely watching my progress ever since they signed me on…)

I've been thinking of retiring from fencing. But I wouldn't know what to do with myself—

I'll see you soon."

— Present Time.

With your father summoning you back home to your family estate, you had no choice but to file for leave and miss this year's Selection Exam. It was a pity you couldn't watch the potential recruits take to the field, too, since Izumo Tech's heir was part of this year's crop.

When your grandfather's death anniversary memorial concluded, you retreated to your room. It was left untouched for the most part. When you arrived back home a few years ago, it was only to unload your excess belongings. The clan hardly had time to give you a proper welcome home since you had to secure the documents you needed for your Defense Force application.

In a pocket of your old carrying case for your sabre was a bundle of unsent letters addressed to Soshiro, along with a bunch of unused French stamps and a pack of envelopes. You haven't practised your sabre sword arm for quite some time now, so you thought of bringing it back to base with you. Kendo was one of the primary forms of training at the force, so you did a lot of digging back into your roots whenever there were training sessions.

The exams will have been done by the time you return to base, so you may as well sleep while you can.

"It was said that the gods tie a crimson string around the pinky fingers of those predestined to be together."

You never really paid much thought to your mother's story back then, but you could faintly recall the chilly evening breeze that blew through the shoji of your bedroom. Her yukata was the colour of ginkgo leaves, her embrace kind and warm.

"But what if you… don't like the person on the other end of the string, okaa-san?"

Hmm. What a profound question for someone so young. Did you really ask that yourself? Even so, your mother smiled at your query, brushing away the hair over your forehead with a cool hand before pressing a tender kiss on it.

"If that day ever comes, my little heart, I know for certain that there is one who will defy fate for you, but you will have to be courageous, too…"

There was no helping your curiosity when you caught wind that this year's recruits were an exceptional bunch— and that one happened to share a tremendously intimate history with the Captain. It was a sizzling hot press release you couldn't help but sink your teeth into when Tae started talking your ears off about it.

You tried not to make that much noise as you both made your way back to your personal quarters that evening, but your topic was far too interesting to just stop and drop— it was about your usually pensive Captain…

"Do you think the Captain will start softening up?" You couldn't help but muse out loud.

"Doubt it! This is Captain Ashiro we're talking about," your fellow Platoon Leader remarked. "Then again, she's still a woman..."

Pretty much, you thought to yourself. Woman or not, a person's relationships shape the way others view them. Officer Hibino's revelations about his shared childhood memories with Captain Ashiro painted her in a new light, unveiling her as a tender girl in her youth— more human than machine like everyone else thought her to be…

"I heard something interesting about you, too," Tae said, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "One of the rookies said they already knew you from before. When you were still a professional fencer."

There's only one, you sighed to yourself this time. "It must be Haruichi-kun. If you must know, Tae-chan, Izumo Tech sponsored my fencing journey, especially when I was just starting out."

"That's not all, too," she chuckled at your slight change of tone. "Last I heard, the kid might even have a crush on you."

"That is not true at all," you elbowed her and laughed at her statement. "That's probably the most absurd thing I've heard in my entire life. Haruichi-kun is—"

"Why do you think it's absurd? I think it's ridiculously truthful," came the voice of a man from behind you.

"Vice Captain! G-Good evening!" You squeaked and managed a salute as Soshiro made his approach. He didn't look like he was ready to retire for the night just yet but was just hanging around.

"Kafka's tales have made the rounds, huh?"

"It's hard not to get roped into the gossip when it's so interesting," Tae said with a grin. "And with a Captain like ours who's so well-loved and well-respected, it's pretty tempting to hear what kind of person she was when she was just a kid."

"Yeah, she really went for her goals and succeeded," you nodded in agreement. "She's awe-inspiring."

"We're all aware of how amazing our Captain is," Soshiro stated with the same recognisable cheer in his voice. "But what's that thing about you and one of the rookies again?"

"Y-You mean about me and Haruichi-kun, Vice Captain? I-I mean Officer Izumo—"

The redhead standing right next to you could only purse her lips to prevent herself from laughing out loud, because by the gods, only she and a handful of other superior officers were aware of their Vice Captain's long-time infatuation with you. Not that he's ever confirmed it, but you two were childhood friends, after all. And this was their Vice Captain getting all jealous and territorial with you.

"I'm just gonna go ahead and turn in for the night," Tae said as she nudged you before breaking out into a salute directed at Soshiro. "Good night, Vice Captain!"

"T-Tae-chan?!" You could only call out to your fellow Platoon Leader as she disappeared into the darkened hallway leading to your quarters. A little whimper of defeat left your lips as you turned back in the direction of your Vice Captain. "Vice Captain—"

"Are you two close?"

"Huh?"

"You and the rookie."

Close wasn't exactly the right word for you two. Haruichi was your main sponsor's son. You've met a lot of times before and have nothing but great respect for each other. A silly crush doesn't do him any justice. That rumour was made in poor taste and faith.

You shook your head at your superior. "We're familiar with each other, but not really as close as everyone thinks."

"Is that so?" Soshiro said, not at all sounding convinced. "If I ask him, will he say the same thing?"

"I suppose," you replied to him with another small sigh of resignation. "I'm sorry, Vice Captain. It's not a nice rumour if you ask me… I feel sorry for… the rookie for being embroiled in this mess."

"Don't apologise because of that," he said as he reached out for your hand. "If you're going to apologise, at least say sorry because I heard it and believed it."

You can confirm now that he wasn't there to reprimand you at all since his hold on you was both tender and solid. There was a storm in his wine-dark gaze— languid but brewing and the way he looked at you made you want to dive right into the depths of his eyes.

"If you want to apologise to me properly, let's do it somewhere more comfortable," he told you as you caught the twinkle of expectation in his eyes. You were likely playing into his hands now, so what else could you do but dance to his rhythm?

"Yes, of course. My personal quarters are nearby," you said, pointing in the direction of the dimly lit hallway that Tae disappeared into moments ago. "If… If it's all right with you…"

"Okay."

"You know, if my family ever finds out I've been alone with a man in my room, no one would ever want me anymore," you said to him in jest. He paused in his tracks the moment you opened your door for him, and you did not expect his reply to your silly joke.

"Whaddya mean? I want you. I've always wanted you. From the moment I saw ya crying in our family's garden, I—"

Oh, he's done it now. His words slipped out so easily because talking to you always felt so natural to him.

"V-Vice Captain?!"

"Yer calling me 'Vice Captain' now, of all times?!"

"I-I don't wanna run laps after hearing t-that! I-I'm just being careful!" You squeaked at him. It was only when you heard the shuffling of footsteps from next door that you managed to take him by the hand and hurriedly pull him into your room.

You didn't think you'd slip and fall on your back in the process. And since you held him by his hand, Soshiro toppled over you with his surprisingly heavy frame. He was quick to cup your head in his hand to brace your fall.

"H-Hey, are you okay?" Came his concerned query as he lifted himself off of you, but he was taken aback by the shine of tears in your eyes.

"Soshiro… Did you mean what you just told me?"

For a moment, you feel like you're back in France, sipping sweet wine on your bedroom windowsill, the colour reminding you so much of your first love's eyes.

The very same eyes staring right back at you at this very moment.

"I do. And if ya don't like it, then let me know. Let me know so I can take it back. And we can pretend this never happened—"

You tenderly coiled your arms around his neck, as though returning his half embrace. With your chest so closely pressed to his, you could hardly tell apart whose heart was beating so incredibly hard.

"Don't take it back," you murmured into the crook of his neck. "Not when I've waited this long to hear it."

And though you said you wanted to talk to him— to clear the air and rid yourself of this trepidation and hesitation that you felt— very few and far between words were exchanged that night.

You liked him too, after all. Now all those times you looked forward to seeing him and he was always just as excited… He's had eyes for you ever since.

You drank deep into his wine-coloured eyes while he helped himself to your warmth, the radiance that you were now in his arms as a single beam of sunlight he wanted to keep all to himself.

And keep you he did.

Soshiro couldn't help his curiosity when he saw the carrying case for your sabre in your quarters. He quietly walked over to it as he dressed himself, careful not to make any noise that may wake you from your deep, deep sleep.

It was no surprise to him that you always kept your weapons in immaculate condition, but what piqued his attention even more was the bundle of unsent letters addressed to him, all of which he stealthily pocketed in his uniform. Some of the envelopes addressed him as 'Officer' and not 'Vice Captain', which could only mean those go way, way back.

"Time for some morning readin', then."

When word got out that the female rookies caught Vice Captain Hoshina leaving your room early the following morning, you already expected to be summoned to the Captain's office that very day.

But instead of being vexed about the situation and her Vice Captain's unusually poor judgement, Mina had a rather amused expression on her otherwise normally calm face as she sat across from you two.

"What happened to not breaking rules, Hoshina?"

"Hey, it's not like I wanted to get caught!" Soshiro shot back at her, though there was very little he could do in the face of his Captain's evident thrill at his predicament.

"I can turn a blind eye to this, but the rumours are already out there," she continued. "I suppose I'll have to mete out some form of 'punishment' for you both. Just to make an example out of you."

"I-I'll accept whatever punishment you have in mind, C-Captain!" You exclaimed with a stiff and deep bow. You've never been reprimanded by the Captain ever since you first started out in the Third Division. For you to be sanctioned for the very first time... I've really done it this time!

"On second thought, I'll just have you two file this instead," Mina stated as she handed you a single sheet of paper with a header in bold letters that read Workplace Relationship Disclosure Form. "As a formality. It's also a written promise that you won't let your relationship get in the way of your jobs."

"That's it? Piece of cake!" Soshiro said with a smile as he read out the form. "We'll file it now and—"

"You'll file it at headquarters yourselves," she said with a small smile as she stood up from her desk. "Other than that, I hope you two managed to talk things out. You're dismissed."

"Headquarters?! Captain Ashiro! We'll do anything! Just don't make us go there! It's such a pain to get there!" He pleaded with the Captain this time. "We'll tell everyone if we have to! I mean that's not a bad idea, too, so they'll know that we're together! But we're just going to be normal about things, we swear!"

"Just how normal are you two going to be?" The Captain said with a small laugh, just like the one you heard from the rumours. "Just promise me you won't let this affect your work. I have great faith in you both, after all."

"Roger!" You exclaimed in unison, followed by your shared tender laughter.

"Good. Now do 30 laps each before training starts again this afternoon," Mina replied to your enthusiasm with another small smile. "I'm really not letting you guys off the hook that easily."

"Th-That's fine, Captain! We-We'll make a start now!" You stammered before she could change her mind about your choice of consequence, throwing her a salute before eventually jogging out of her office.

"Don't make her run your laps, Hoshina. She'll do it for you without you even asking."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Captain. As if I'd let her do all the heavy lifting herself," he replied with a salute and his usual cheer.

"What do you plan on doing about the rumours?"

"Let them talk. It's even better for us. At least they know now who she belongs to."

"It's so strange hearing something like that come from you," Mina said to him, the same hint of amusement in her voice before eventually asking him, "Is there… anything else you wish to discuss with me, Hoshina?"

"While we're here, Captain. I was wondering if you could hear my request for time off," Soshiro started. As he thought, his Captain was keenly perceptive. "There's someone I gotta talk to."

"It must be important, then, if you're requesting time off."

"Guess you could say that! I gotta make my intentions clear, after all."

You were summoned back home to your family estate on one of your days off. It was rare for your father to call on you given your busy schedule, but on the phone, it sounded like he had something important to discuss with you. When you arrived, your servants promptly brought you over to the estate garden, where your father stood smack in the middle. He wore his favourite hakama, your family mon embroidered on it with fine gold thread.

"Otou-san."

"Ah, there you are," he welcomed you with an uncharacteristic smile on his face. He looked a little tired, but also somewhat pleased. "Walk with me, daughter. I have something I wish to tell you."

He offered you his elbow as you walked over to him, and you took it, though you were evidently confused. "Soshiro-kun was here the other day."

"Really?" You asked, your confusion compounding even further. "What business did he have with you?"

Your pace was restful and leisurely, an afternoon breeze blowing overhead. You tried to match your father's steps, only realising now how short his strides were.

"You should have known from the start that the Hoshina Family only permitted your presence in their home out of pity. It was no surprise for us that their heir didn't think much of you. He must have known that the Koganei owe a great deal to the Hoshina and your grandfather was so hell-bent on having you marry into that family for reparations."

So that's what it was. "Huh. I suppose that makes sense…"

"Your marriage wasn't really for prestige. We've long lost that, after all… If anything, it would have secured you a home in the future. They would take care of you, at least…"

"Was it a large sum?"

"A debt that can only be paid by a life."

Someone from the Hoshina Family died for yours. How long ago it was, you will never know.

You couldn't help but think back to your childhood, that very day your family brought you to the Hoshina Estate, and how Soichiro looked over you as though you were an ostentatious doll on display. That was why your family tried so hard—

"The Hoshina… wanted us to excel at swordsmanship so there would be no more needless deaths like of past. But all I had was a daughter. They thought the marriage was a good idea at first, but then the brothers started fighting over you."

"That's new, otou-san. I know for a fact that Soichiro-san hates me and my guts."

Your father chuckled at your statement, even though he knew you were right. "He only hated the fact that he could not make a rival out of you. But his clever younger brother did."

His fingers were cold from the breeze, the hardened calluses across his palm tenderly squeezing your smaller hand in his.

"I know it was Soshiro-kun who gave you that very thing we deprived you of," he told you, holding your gaze for you to understand the gravity of this conversation. "Purpose."

Time was still for you all of a sudden, the weight of your father's tired eyes rested on you before he spoke once more. "He came to ask for your hand. In the future, he amended. He said the two of you are far too busy and far too valuable to the Defense Force to even consider marriage at present."

It was your mother who related the events of Soshiro's visit to your family estate the other day.

The blockhead second son of the Hoshina Family came to your home and prostrated himself before your father, his forehead reaching the tatami as he beseeched the patriarch with a crack in his voice that pulled at the older man's heart.

"I don't care about your family's debt to mine. I promise to be good to her, so please…"

"What's this I heard about the Sixth Division Captain reachin' out to ya the other day?"

You were conducting drills with your platoon when Soshiro arrived at the training ground. His arrival prompted your team members to pause their exercises to throw him a snappy salute that matched your own. "Vice Captain, sir!"

"We'll resume in five. Take a break, fellas," you gestured to your team, who could only watch with bated breath how your commanding officer pulled you aside.

"Now, of all times?" You asked him, a hint of annoyance in your voice. "You do know everyone's watching us… Vice Captain, sir."

"I was just… curious. Why's he callin' you now—"

"Captain Hoshina simply wished to… congratulate us on our…" You replied to him, though every word you said made you more embarrassed and self-conscious because your members were still in their respective positions, only pretending not to hear your conversation. "30 laps around the block! You all better pick up the pace when I catch up! Go! Go! Go!"

Your team was quick on their feet when you clapped and motioned for them to start running. The mischief makers smiled as they passed by you, shouting their congratulations on your engagement.

"Good grief…" You sighed in defeat. "I thought we were keeping things under the wraps."

"Hard to do that when everyone in the Third Division's so nosy," he chuckled. By the time all your members disappeared into a block, he gently took your hand in his and gave it a tender squeeze.

"You know, Vice Captain, your brother did say something interesting earlier. I thought I'd let you know about it," you started. "Soichiro-san said you always challenged him to improve yourself, but there was one time you actually scored a point over him. Because you two were fighting over something."

"Really, now? I wonder what it was…" He replied with a playfulness in his tone. "It probably didn't matter to him much since he was a genius and all."

"He said he only let you win because you'd never stop bugging him about it," you told him, followed by a small pfft when you saw his expression change. "But you're right. It didn't matter to him much, but he saw how much it meant to you…"

It was supposed to be a petty argument between brothers, but it meant so little to him now since you were the one who broke off your engagement with his older brother.

"There was a time when I thought I'd end up being Soichiro-san's wife because he was the one on the other end of the string… or so my family said," you stated with a scoff this time. "But if you must know, Soshiro, I considered myself yours the moment you asked me to swing a sword at you."

You squeezed his hand right back. "Thank you for defying fate for me. And for giving me the courage…"

Soshiro smiled at you— his same, knowing Cheshire Cat smile you've liked from the start. "Are ya kiddin' me? It was you who defied fate. Probably not for me, but good enough to think that it is. And our ancestors got what they wanted too, so there's that."

"Our ancestors didn't want a marriage," you retorted with a laugh. "They wanted a life for a life."

"They got that, too. Yours is mine and mine is yours. Y'know, I think that red string just got tangled in the midst of everything. You're meant to be part of my family one way or another."

You returned his warm smile as you raised his hand to your cheek. "This is the only way I'd have it. The only way I want."

✦ x x

#songsofadelaidewrites💛#kaijuu 8 gou #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju number 8 #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 spoilers #kaiju no.8 x reader #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina x reader #soshiro x reader

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 4 months ago

Text

Sass & Suspenders

Legal AU: Prosecutor!Bucky x Female!Doctor!Reader

You and Bucky are both professionals in a long term relationship, but you like to mix things up once in a while despite the humdrum of life.

Warnings: smut, 18+ only, minors please leave

Word Count: 2,953

A/N: Because I have a thing for men in suspenders and I've thought about this for far too long.

Bucky groaned. But not one iota of the deep articulation of the sound that escaped his lips was rooted in any form of pleasure. You shared the sentiment. Taxes - who ever enjoyed doing those?

"Do we have to?" he whined.

"You promised!" you admonished, knowing full well that if he persisted in his protests, you would succumb to his point of view.

The pout you received in response was almost as good as his closing arguments. It was 9pm and you had both left your busy jobs to spend an evening together completing your tax returns. Your relationship had most certainly reached the pinnacle of excitement.

Heaving a sigh of resignation, you nudged your boyfriend towards the study you shared. The two of you had been putting off the chore for several weeks and you had finally laid down the law to your handsome attorney.

"I'm tired."

"So am I, but it has to be done. Come on."

Despite the fact that your crazy careers that kept you busy until ridiculous hours, the two of you found a way to do something together, even if it was only sleeping. Early in your relationship, there had been a number of rescheduled or incomplete dates, but the offending party would make it up to the other with their favorite cupcake the following day. In all honesty you were surprised that you hadn't gained a tonne of weight because of the quantity of cake you had consumed.

It wasn't long before you knew that Bucky was the one for you and you apprehensively admitted your feelings to him. To your immense relief, he reciprocated those feelings and in no time at all you'd moved in together and were filling out tax returns like an old married couple. It was incredible how well you synced with each other, in spite of your differences. A difference that was evident on this auspicious evening.

When carrying out a task that needed concentration and an arduous undertaking, you liked to be comfortable, meaning you immediately changed into one of your chemise nightgowns. Bucky on the other hand felt the only way to concentrate was to roll up his shirt sleeves and dig in in full professional garb. He often said that staying in ‘character’ helped him focus.

Neither of you objected particularly to the other's choices, particularly when Bucky was wearing suspenders with his suits. You would never dare admit it, but you had developed an overwhelming fondness for seeing your sweetheart in suspenders. One might even describe it as a kink.

Before meeting Bucky, you had never met anyone under the age of 70 wearing suspenders. You considered it to be a quirk of many of your elderly patients. But for some reason, Bucky made it look like the height of fashion. Many a time you found yourself wondering what it would be like to grab a hold of the elasticated straps and pull him into your arms. Today happened to be one of those many distracting occasions that left you dazed and very much aroused. It was several moments before you acknowledged the fact that Bucky was leaning across the table in an attempt to meet your gaze.

"Hey there, doll," he gave you that lopsided grin that drove you nuts. "What happened to 'we must focus' and 'get this done tonight'?"

The flush on your face deepened.

"What's going on in that brain of yours? You're kinda quiet."

You bit your lip, treating him to a coy smile. "I just have other things on my mind."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Just admiring how handsome my boyfriend looks."

"You looked like you were looking straight through me, not at me."

"Bucky, let's get back to this paperwork."

"No."

"No?"

"I want you to tell me what you were thinking about." His tone was low and commanding. Almost as though he already knew the dirty thoughts that had crossed your mind.

You felt your pulse quicken. "May I plead the fifth, counselor?"

"No, doll. You're under my jurisdiction now. You're under oath to speak the truth."

"The whole truth?"

"Nothing but the truth."

"So help me God?"

"I'll be the only one here that can help you. Now tell me what you were thinking."

"How about I show you?" Rising from your chair, you sauntered over to Bucky's side of the large oak desk.

Sliding into his lap, you ran your fingers along the elastic straps of his suspenders, tracing the small grooves and indentations of the springy material.

"See something you like, doll?"

The groan that escaped your lips was nothing short of sinful. You wrapped one strap in each of your empty fists and tugged at them forcefully, pulling Bucky towards you until his mouth was barely an inch from yours. All words were forgotten on your part.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded, his voice so low you could barely make out his words through the carnal desire in his voice.

His lips were so close, you could practically taste a whiff of that last cup of coffee he had swallowed before leaving work. You watched the steely blue of his eyes shrink as his pupils expanded with arousal. Bucky's hands settled on either side of your face, his skin was on fire, or maybe it was yours, it was impossible to tell.

His lips brushed against yours lightly, so soft and it sent shivers through your nerves, shivers that made your whole body tremble. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you said nothing, he pressed his lips on yours a little harder, leaving a slightly sloppy kiss on your mouth. “How about now?” he asked. He traced a solitary finger along the line of your cheekbone. “Or now-”

The rest of his words were lost against your mouth. He kissed you gently, carefully, but it wasn’t gentleness you wanted, not now, not when it had been so long, and you knotted your fists tighter around his suspenders, pulling him harder against you. He groaned softly, low in his throat, and his arms circled you, gathering you against him.

All you wanted was Bucky, you wanted to feel him, all of him, pressing into you. You inhaled, breathing in his shaving cream, his cologne, that extra scent that was just...Bucky. The aroma was intoxicating and you were dizzy with desire to take him in. Parting your lips, you invited him. His tongue deftly entered your mouth, forcefully searching every possible crevice, teasing, tantalizing, tasting your unique flavor.

His hands slipped under the hem of your chemise, gently gliding his long digits across your sensitive abdomen, before moving them to your bountiful breasts, enjoying the way you whimpered and writhed every time he flicked one of your perky nipples. The electrifying sensations traveled through your body culminating in your arousal pooling in the meager piece of material covering your leaking lips. Before you had time to object, Bucky’s hands were splayed across the inside of your thigh, fingers creeping ever closer to your clothed clit.

"Mmm, objection," you hummed into his mouth.

Bucky unlocked his lips from yours, surprise and disappointment evident on his face. "Ok, I know, we have to get this done," he took his hand off your thigh and waved at the paperwork on the desk.

"Eager much?" your smirk insinuating at your meaning. You laughed and snapped one of his suspenders lightly. With the other hand, you swept your fingers over the bulge in his pants. "I have a counter argument."

"Oh?"

"Let me show you." Seductively, you slipped off his lap and knelt down between his legs. Looking up at his face, you watched the look of comprehension spread across his handsome features.

"Are you sure?" he asked, somewhat apprehensively.

"Certain." The bulge seemed to be growing before your very eyes, straining at the seams of his pricey pants. "I've missed how you taste."

Bucky sucked in a breath in anticipation of your actions, eyes wide as you unzipped his pants and freed his hardening cock. Gently, you trailed your fingers up and down his shaft. "It's your turn to tell me what you want me to do to you."

"You know what I like, doll."

That you did. "I want to run my tongue over every inch of you." Lowering your head, you took him into your mouth, warm and soft, you took a moment to savor his taste. You hummed with appreciation, your tongue flickered and danced around the tip and instantly you felt him swelling and growing hard for you, his cock filling your mouth with every lick.

You pulled back slightly as the head of his cock started to push against the back of your throat. "Tell me how good it feels. I want to hear you say it."

He groaned. The sound excited you, his body was coming alive for your mouth. You reached up to his chest, slipping your hand under the suspender strap and pushed down on his nipple.

"Oh doll, nobody has ever fucked me like you do," he cried as you worked your tongue over his frenulum. Bucky responded just as you wanted, the taste of pre-cum seeped into your mouth. He arched his back, eyes rolling backwards with pleasure.

Your free hand curled around his now rock hard member, with a loose grip, you gently moved your hand up and down encouraging the flow of more pre-cum from his tip to lubricate your actions and elicit the most ungodly moans from your boyfriend.

Hearing Bucky groaning so obscenely sent a tingle through your clit. After a pause, you tilted your head to take him further into your mouth, bobbing up and down with ease. His fingers mingled with your luscious locks as he guided your head gently as he tried not to trust too deeply into your throat. Bucky knew you often struggled to take him in completely and that he had to take care to not get too carried away in his bliss.

It wasn't until he started cursing quietly under his breath in a way that made you come undone. You removed your mouth from his cock, "Buck, I can’t wait any longer… please I need you to fuck me."

"Doll, I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow." He stood suddenly and pulled you to your feet effortlessly.

"Buck-" you whined. "Please, I need you. Touch me."

"Turn around."

You obeyed. His erection pressed against you was more than you could bear.

"Buck, fuck me like you mean it."

"I always mean it," he growled into your ear. He pushed you forward onto the desk, forcing you onto your elbows. Your chemise rose up as you bent over the thick table, exposing your ass. His cock rested comfortably between your thighs, eagerly twitching, ready for action. Your dripping wet pussy literally begged for it.

Bucky tugged at the strip of material that was the only thing keeping him from entering you. "Is this ok?"

"Oh God, yes," you exclaimed. At any other time, you may have been ashamed of your wanton cries, but right now you couldn't care less. All you wanted was to feel Bucky pushing into you, filling you up, making you pulse with pleasure around him in that way that no one else could compare.

"Not God, just me," he smirked.

At what felt like an excruciating slow pace, Bucky stroked your slit with his tip, collecting the succulent elixir that you had made, just for him. As he touched your clit, you shuddered deeply and gasped. You closed your eyes and focused on the ecstatic sensations that shot through your body as your opening stretched in receipt of his cock.

It was a good thing you were half sprawled across the sturdy table because your legs felt like jelly and would give way at any moment. As if Bucky could hear your thoughts, he curled his fingers around your hips, the tips pressed into your flesh salaciously.

"Oh Buck! I want you all the way inside me, give me all of you."

"Is that what you like, doll?"

"Yes, you know that’s what I like."

"I hope you're ready for this, because I know I am," Bucky purred.

He certainly was. He didn't hesitate in plunging himself further into you like sheathing a sword to its hilt. The force made you gasp with pain and surprise and the grimace on your face didn't go unnoticed. Bucky bent forwards, his abdomen pressed against your back and asked, "too much?"

"Tad too fast," you answered. "I may have been a little too hasty about what I asked for."

His new position had relieved some of the pressure and you felt a lot more comfortable and ready for him to try again. Bucky's breath was hot on your back and the wave of pain was now ebbing away, replaced by your impatient longing.

"Let's try something different, shall we?"

His fingers crept around you until he found your clit. Bucky encouraged you to spread your legs by nudging your knees apart. Slowly, his digits struck up a steady pace rhythm of slow movements, starting below and dragging up again and again, until your the bundle of nerves was flushed and firm under his fingers and your juices started leaking out around him. Not until your hips start undulating did Bucky try pushing back inside you. You had to admire his self control as he made you unravel with the smallest flick of his finger.

"Buck-"

"Doll?"

"If you keep fingering me like that, this is going to be over before you get the chance to have any fun."

"Watching you cum is extremely fun for me."

"You feel so delicious inside me, but I need you to fuck me with your cock."

Bucky was only too happy to oblige. Proceeding with caution, he pushed slowly until he was fully inside you. A burning sensation radiated through you as you stretched to let him in.

"How does that feel?" he asked slightly apprehensively.

"Exquisite!" you sighed.

You shifted to make yourself comfortable before Bucky pulled out slowly, leaving you feeling empty inside. But you didn't have to wait long before he was thrusting back half inside you, making you gasp and moan. It was almost too much for Bucky, he was already struggling to control himself but he held back, wanting to give you as much pleasure as possible for as long as possible. In and out, he moved further with each thrust until he was sliding all the way into you, hands roaming over your exposed back.

“Bucky. Buck...” you murmured.

“Doll, a little louder for those of us in the back.”

“Does it turn you on?” you smiled.

“You’ll be screaming my name by the end of the night.” He rutted against you sharply in an unexpected rhythm.

“Haha, you’re going to have to do better than tha-ahh,” you struggled to complete your answer as he slipped one hand between your

thighs.

"Come on," he coaxed you by edging his fingers up your leg.

"Make me cum, counselor."

"On one condition."

"Name. It."

"You know what I want doll. Let me give you a taste of what you want." Devilishly, your boyfriend slipped his hand between your folds and gave your throbbing clit a few small flicks.

"Buck-uhhhh."

"That's right doll, just a little more," he grunted, starting to come undone himself. "Oh fuck, just a little more."

"Just a little more, Bucky!"

You pushed down against the hand he had clamped over your clit as he pounded against you mercilessly, all speech forgotten. Both of you panted and pumped away each chasing your release. There is was, that all too familiar knot at the bottom of your stomach. It spread through you like lightening, permeating every fiber of your being. "Bucky, oh Bucky, I'm-" you cried out.

Your walls fluttered around him pushing him to the brink of ecstasy. His thrusts became more and more erratic as you tightened around him. Your whole body shook with pleasure. "Bucky!"

The sound of you screaming his name in euphoria was what made him pulse inside you. Arching his back, Bucky spilled his hot milky load while chanting your name under his breath.

Neither of you moved for the longest time, you sprawled across the table with Bucky bent over your limp form.

"Buck," you finally worked up the energy to speak.

"Mmmm?"

"I wish you could be inside me forever."

"Wouldn't that be nice," he smirked at the very thought.

For a few more moments, neither of you moved.

"Buck?"

"Mmmm?"

"I think my arm fell asleep."

You could feel the rumble of his laughter flow into you. He slowly extricated himself from you, now you were only connected by the thin trail of his creamy elixir.

Bucky gripped your waist as you clumsily lowered yourself off the desk. "Looks like we made a mess of this." He waved his hand at the scattered receipts that were now strewn all over the table top.

"Next time don't wear suspenders if you want to avoid interruptions," you admonished him playfully while pulling your chemise back down to a comfortable position.

"Seriously, that's what turns you on?" Bucky wiped himself off and tucked himself back into his pants.

"They make you look distinguished!" You sighed and wrapped your hands around the offending article of clothing.

"So how would you feel if I put on some plaid pajamas?" Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think you should hold me responsible for what happens to you." Smiling, you pulled at the straps and led your bemused boyfriend to bed.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction

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drabblesandimagines · 1 year ago

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Elevation

Leon Kennedy x female reader More of my fluffy nonsense

Hunnigan slams the phone down into the cradle at the end of her call and if you hadn’t already been casting auspicious glances up at the scene before you, her actions would’ve made you jump.

“What is it, Leon?” Hunnigan’s tone is blunt.

It would be so easy to look up at the handsome DSO agent then. You’d be perfectly within your right to look up too, your desk opposite sat directly opposite Hunnigan’s so you had ring-side side seats to the commotion. It wouldn’t look odd - he’d be in your eyeline, after all - but you fight the temptation, keeping your eyes fixed on the paper in front of you, fingers tapping idly away over the keyboard as you transpose to the screen.

Exactly what you’ve been doing the past ten minutes that Leon Kennedy has been wandering around the office, dressed in a pair of form-fitting jeans today, his gun holster peeking out from underneath a beloved leather jacket, directing all attention to a certain pair of assets.

Not that you were keeping track of how long he’d been there, of course, you had work to do.

“Huh?” For someone who had apparently been waiting on her call finishing, Leon’s thoughts seems elsewhere.

“I said,” Hunnigan adjusts her tone, “can I help you with something?”

“Does there have to be something? Surely a guy can just come visit his favourite FOS agent.”

“But you haven’t come to visit, you’ve come to loiter.” Hunnigan retorts. “I told you already, if I have anything for you, I will be in contact. Go home.”

There’s an incredulous scoff as he tries to think of a reason to stay, but it quickly transforms into a sigh as he admits defeat. “Fine.”

He begins his retreat towards the exit and you hear the tell-tale beep of his pass against by the door panel, the electronic lock then clunking in release.

“Have a good afternoon, ladies.”

You look up then – and only then - to find him looking directly at you. You give him a polite smile in return. “You too.”

He grins in return, a proper one that makes his eyes crease, before giving you a nod and a wave as he through the door. The smile stays on your lips as you reach for your mug of coffee – now ice cold - and take a sip.

“I think he likes you, you know?” Hunnigan states in her oh-so-nonchalantly way, making you choke on the gulp you’d just taken.

“What? No…! I mean, who?” Your voice is tight in response from having swallowed the liquid the wrong way, internally cursing. Smooth, real smooth.

“Leon.” The agent continues hammering away at her keyboard, kindly ignoring your attempts at being subtle.

“I don’t know where you’ve drawn that conclusion from.” You don’t – you really don’t. You could probably count the amount of conversations the two of you have had with all of your fingers, all just pleasantries.

“I’ve worked with him for years now and he’s never been here as much since your transfer started.”

“Coincidence, I’m sure. He just seems eager for work.”

Hunnigan goes to open her mouth in response when, thankfully, the phone on her desk rings. Saved by the bell.

Being afraid of elevators had never really been an issue until you had taken this assignment, being sent to work on the 12th floor. At the very least it’s proving to be a good workout the number of times a day you now trudge up and down the stairwell from your desk to the archives below. The DSO holds a surprising amount of paper copies of intel in the basement – both handwritten and old typewriter documents - secured behind a vault door, rumours of the place being rigged to ignite in flames if an intruder is detected to prevent it all from falling into the wrong hands.

The DSO board had decided that intel should now be stored in the government-secured cloud and on paper and you’d been brought in as an archivist/analyst hybrid, on loan from the CIA. The project you’d been tasked with, single-handedly, was transferring intel that was currently only held in those paper copies to the online system. There was technology that could do but it wasn’t perfect – scrawled handwriting would often prove indecipherable by most machines or it misread words, so everything would need quality checked. It was agreed a human touch was best and your name had come up after the CIA had undertaken a similar audit of their files a few years ago to excellent results. Once everything had been digitized, it had become easier to quickly identify any links between incidents past and present – using surnames, terms, intel – and even stopped a handful of potential ones, so the DSO had been keen to put the practice in place.

It did mean, however, that every day you’d go down to the vault, select a box of paperwork – either the one you’ve got partway through or a whole new one - trudge back up the many flights of stairs, and then start typing from page to screen to produce a digitized document. It was imperative that no-one else see the documents, so they’d set you up in Hunnigan’s office as one of their most trusted agents.

Wanting to look professional whilst in the office but not break your neck on the stairs, you kept a selection of heels in your locker to swap out of for your reliable sneakers. Hunnigan was still working away when you packed up around 7pm, kicking off your heels to switch out, and had been in a lengthy, hushed tone call for the past hour. You nodded your head as you heaved the box of documents up in your arms, and she waved back in acknowledgement.

Beeping your ID card at the door, the lock buzzed and the door opened automatically – a godsend as the box you had today was particularly heavy – everything within held in those awful arch-lever folders.

As you emerged, you heard the puff of the elevator doors beginning to slide shut, not even giving it a moment of thought. You turned to the left to head down the stairs as usual, when a gloved hand slammed between the elevator doors, preventing them from closing with a thud and giving you a start, turning to see a face.

The face of Leon S Kennedy catches you entirely by surprise. He hadn’t even been by the office today to bother Hunnigan, though you know he does have his own desk somewhere in the building, maybe even his own office. He smiles at the sight of you, beckoning you over.

“Hey. Hop on in - I’m going down.”

You hesitate at the invitation. You haven’t been in an elevator for years and he’s just stood there, waiting, holding the door open. You have to say or do something. “You okay?”

Next thing you know, as if you’d been hypnotized, you were walking towards the elevator, then stepping over the threshold into a place you swore you never would enter again.

“Basement?” Leon fingers hover over the button panel in anticipation.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He presses the buttons for ground and basement simultaneously with two fingers, and the door slides shut with another puff of air.

The elevator and your stomach begin to descend in unison.

This is fine.

“Looks heavy. Can I…?” He gestures to the box, offering to take it.

“Oh, thanks, but it’s okay.” You bump the box up with your knee, trying to strengthen your grip on it. Your palms are sweaty, but you’re not sure if the cause is the elevator or the handsome man besides you.

Leon crosses his arms, leans back against the wall. “They still not given you a lackey to do all the grunt work? I thought that’s what they took on interns for these days.”

“It’s difficult when no-one else is meant to handle it, let alone see it but me.” Leon gives you a quizzical look at that. “It’s protocol, narrows down the potential for leaks. If anything gets out, it’s on my head, so…”

“What about when you take breaks? You don’t…”

You nod, shifting the box in your arms again. Why do they feel like jelly? “Gotta lug it back downstairs to be locked back in the vault.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Mm-mm. It’s fine – good exercise for me, I guess, between sitting at the desk all day, so…”

“Surely they could at least give you a desk closer to the grou-“

The elevator’s smooth descent is transformed into a shudder, followed by a loud metallic screech and a sharp jerk that makes your stomach truly drop before all motion halts. No, no, no, no.

“Huh.” Leon muses, calm as anything. He immediately presses the emergency call button, illuminated in red, but the only sound that emits out of the speakers is static. He presses it again to the same result, and then in rapid succession, as if that’ll coerce it into working.

You tighten your grip on the box, wanting to tell him to stop but, thankfully, he gives up before you can have the strength to find your voice and pulls his cell out from his pocket.

“Damn, no reception.” He looks back over to you then with a sympathetic smile. “Well, this is one way to get overtime outta us, hey?”

There’s no chance to reply before the elevator plunges into darkness and you drop the box immediately, thankfully away from your feet. It can only be a few seconds at the most but it feels like an eternity before the emergency lighting comes on, casting the small metal prison in a pale yellow hue.

Leon’s staring at you, looking concerned. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah.” You reply, not at all convincingly. You bend down to pick up the box to escape that blue-eyed gaze for a moment, heaving it back up in your arms. “Is this… normal for this office?” You hope he can’t hear how tight your voice is.

“Power must be down, seems like the back-up generator kicked in.” The agent shrugs, looking around the elevator as if something of use might be around. “It’ll prioritize the critical systems – so I’d guess lights, vending machines and elevators are not gonna be particularly high up on that list.”

“Wonderful.” You reply, breathily. It’s warm. Should it be warm? “Here, let me just…” Leon reaches over and gently tugs the box from your weak grip, no sign of surprise at the weight of it as he takes it. “We don’t know how long we’ll be in here, so let’s put this down.”

“No, I shou-“

“I promise I’m not going to try and read any of it.”

You watch him as he places it down, he’s sure to bend with his knees rather than his back, and tucks it into the corner under the button panel, out of the way. He stands back up to his full height, looking at you for a response, but all you manage is a shaky nod.

“Are you feeling okay?” “Y-yeah. Fine.” “Mm. Not a great liar.” He tilts his head, scanning you with his eyes once more. “What’s the matter?” “I…” Another swallow in the hopes of your mouth not feeling so dry. “I don’t like elevators. Always take the stairs.” “Oh.” Not the answer he was expecting it seems. “Wait, why’d you get in, then?” “Well, er…” You hesitate again, how do you answer that? “You… You told me to.”

He can’t help the goofy smile that crosses his face. “Huh, that’s all it takes? Interesting. I’ll have to remember that.”

You’re about to ask him what that’s supposed to mean, the words just on the tip of your tongue when the elevator jerks and they turn into a shriek. It’s over before it even begins, really, but Leon’s reflexes now have you pressed up against the wall, his arms braced above your head to protect it from any sort of impact.

“It’s all right,” he says, softly. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Your heart is beating too fast, tears burn at your eyes at the fright. He’s so close, you can smell his cologne – musky, hints of vanilla – but this isn’t where you want to be having this moment.

“How about we sit down, huh?”

“I’m okay.” Your answer is breathy again, your chest feeling tight. Panting like you’d finished climbing up 12 flights of stairs.

“It’ll be more comfortable.”

“Don’t wanna…” You try and take a deep inhale, but it doesn’t seem to reach the bottom of your lungs. “Don’t wanna s-shake it.”

“You won’t.” He drops his arms from against the wall and instead grabs your hand, squeezes it in an attempt to ground you. “Trust me.”

You want to trust him, but the panic is too strong. This was such a bad idea, why did you do this?

“I…”

“We’ll do it together, okay?” He somehow coaxes you to shuffle forward and then slips in behind you, taking hold of your other hand. “Just lean against me and we’ll ease on down.”

Leon presses his chest firmly up against your back and you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating. He wraps his arms around your waist next, meaning you’re hugging yourself in a way before he slides down against the elevator wall, bringing you down with him, onto the carpeted elevator floor. He thought it was a seamless maneuverer, but the way he’d felt your nails dig into his leather gloves from how tight your grip was, he knew you weren’t of the same opinion.

“There we go.” His thighs are spread either side of yours, now that you’re nestled inbetween his legs. “Worried you were gonna pass out – you’d gone really pale. Just sit here and concentrate on your breathing a minute, okay? Feel how I’m doing it.”

You close your eyes and try to concentrate on how he’s breathing, feeling his chest expand as he inhales, loudly and deliberately through his nose, holds the breath, then exhales heavily through his mouth, tickling the back of your neck.

You try and mimic him, get your inhales and exhales in sync and, slowly, the pressure begins to ease in your chest as you feel your breaths get deeper and deeper.

"Feeling a little better?”

His voice reverberates from his chest being pressed up against your back, feels comforting. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“Hey, don’t mention it. My fault you’re in here, after all.” He replies, gently. “I’m gonna move now, okay? Wanna check you’ve got the colour back in your cheeks.”

You nod, and he somehow manages to shuffle back and to the front of you with overly cautious movements – definitely for your benefit, ever the gentleman - withdrawing his legs into a crossed position and giving you a smile as he takes in your appearance. Being so fixed in his gaze makes your cheeks prickle with heat – maybe not the colour he’d hoped to be checking.

“Yeah, you’re looking better. Good.” He nods in affirmation, more to himself than you. “That noise – I think someone was trying to get the power back on, sounds like it only worked for a second before it could get going. The elevator’s not gonna fall.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve had to disable some of them before – for work, I mean. They’re all equipped with multiple failsafe systems to prevent that exact scenario.”

“Disable them?”

“Just so they stop…” He gestures in a circle as he tries to find the words, “elevating, I guess, so I’m not pursued. Make ‘em take the stairs.”

“Ah, right.” You nod. “Wind them a bit.”

“Exactly. If you don’t mind me asking, you always been afraid of them?”

“No. Got stuck in one in an old apartment block years ago – it didn’t feel particularly modern. There were three of us – me and two drunk guys who kept jumping up and down, convinced that would make it move. The fire department got us out after two hours cos I had one of those… episodes. Haven’t been in one since.”

“Idiots.”

“They just kept laughing the more panicked I got. I felt so stupid.”

“Panic attacks are no joke. That box breathing always helps me if I feel on edge, though.”

“Yeah, that was really good.” You feel a shy smile creep over your face. “If I had to get suck in an elevator with anyone, I’m glad it was you.”

He practically beams. “Now I don’t feel quite so bad. I’ve gotta ask again though, you really got in here just because I said to?” He’s already seen you a panicking mess, so why not just be honest? “Your smile helped too.” “Well, consider me flattered.”

“It’s a nice smile…” You swallow, a little cautious of the next word. “Enticing.”

You swear you see a smidge of colour flush Leon’s cheeks then, but it must be a trick of the artificial lights. “Well, since we’re confessing – yours is too. That’s the real reason I was bothering Hunnigan. Wanted to see if I could win another.”

“You came to see me smile?” You’re definitely blushing now – cheeks prickling with the heat.

“Guilty. I don’t think you’d remember, but a week or so back I was having a real shitty day. Went to go debrief with Hunnigan and she wasn’t there, but you were. When I stormed in, you just gave me the best and most genuine smile I’d seen in days. Meant a lot.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly.

You smile again, can’t help it, and he groans, jokingly. “Ugh, see? Not again – I don’t think my heart can take how sweet it is.”

You don’t know what to say to that but you’re excused when, suddenly, the lights transition overhead with a flicker from the emergency dulled tones to the standard, harsh fluorescent light and the elevator begins its smooth descent once more.

“Finally, huh?” Leon gets up easily to his feet and then offers you a hand.

“Yeah.” You accept it without hesitation, goosebumps prickling up your arm as he wraps his fingers around your hand and he pulls you up with ease. Slyly, his other hand now rests on the small of your back, drawing you in close…

The elevator dings, announcing its arrival on the ground floor and the doors slide open to reveal a maintenance worker, clad in blue overalls, waiting in the lobby. Leon draws back then, but still keeps his hand steady on your back.

“You two all right? Power-cut had rotten timing, I was gonna repair that emergency speaker tonight when most of the office was cleared out.”

“All good, thanks.” Leon bends down, picks up the box again without question and you follow him out of the elevator in pursuit, only to hear a cell begin to ring from his pocket. He balances the box with one arm – you’ve no idea how – and pulls out the device, frowning at the name on screen.

“Sorry, I’ve really gotta take this.” His brows furrow in annoyance. “You be okay with taking that downstairs?”

“Yeah, of course. I really should take it back now anyway, you know, just in case…” You trail off as he eases the box over to you, making sure you’ve got it properly before he lets go. “Thanks… for everything.”

“Pleasure was all mine.” He replies, sincerely, before reluctantly lifting the cell up to his ear.

“Kennedy.”

You leave him to his phone-call and head down the stairs for a thankfully unremarkable trip down to the vaults to replace the box back in its rightful place. It’d be a lie to say when you climbed back up to the lobby that you weren’t disappointed when there’s no trace of him to be found.

The next morning, after passing through the security check, you make your way down to the archive vault as usual, pressing your hand against the door panel to gain access. Sadly, you’ve still got a lot of work to do in the box you’d been working on yesterday, so you dutifully log its withdrawal in the computer system, and heave it up once more in your arms before heading out.

You only make it up one flight of stairs when you see him, leaned up against the stairway wall, one arm held against his chest whilst his other hand is holding his cell, squinting at some text. He looks up as you scuff your trainer on one of the steps and he smiles as you reach him, tucking his cell back away.

“Good morning.”

“Morning. What brings you here?” You curse inwardly. “I mean, not that it’s not a pleasant surprise, just…”

He waves it off. “I getcha. Well, I have some pretty good sway here, you know, so I’ve volunteered.”

“Volunteered for what?”

“Volunteered…” He steps forward and wraps his arms around the box, “..to be your stairs lackey.”

“Oh, no – it’s fine, honestly.” You feel flustered at the very idea. Leon’s one of the top, if not the top agent of the DSO. He can’t be doing manual labour for you, he shouldn’t. “You have so many better things to be doing. I can mana…”

“Please?” He tilts his head, gives you that enticing smile again. “I mean, I could just tell you,” – he teases – “but I thought I’d ask this time, so you’re sure.”

The smile makes you feel weak at the knees and you’d already proven yesterday you couldn’t resist its magic. “Okay. But you should definitely take the elevator then.”

“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head, taking the box into his arms. “It’s good cardio, got my weight-resistance. You’re practically doing me a favour by taking the stairs.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hm. Though,” he bites his lip in a pause, “I may have ulterior motives.”

“Right, and what would those be?”

“If I were to, say, visit the office around six tonight and carry this thing back down to the vault, maybe you’d go to dinner with me?”

God, you feel absolutely giddy - there’s no way you can hold back your smile. “I think that’s… acceptable.”

“Then we have a deal. Ladies first,” he nods with his head to up the stairwell.

“No, I… I think you should go first. Just so I can keep an eye on you on the way up. I’ve got to make sure you’re not sneaking a peek at the assets, you know?”

He quirks an eyebrow, you know he’s wondering what you’re thinking, but he shrugs it off all the same. “As you wish.”

And as you follow him up 12 flights of stairs, you slightly breathless and him seemingly fine, you can’t help but sneak a look at a different pair of assets before you.

---

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londonfog-chan · 16 days ago

Text

Emperor Geta x Fem!Reader: The Goddess and The Cupbearer

A/N: You know what the Romans did a lot of? Looking at omens and star charts.

I set out to find the worst possible combination of zodiacs. The nightmare duo apparently is Aquarius and Virgo. I am a Virgo, and with my many Aquarius friend experience, that Aquarius + Virgo combo is the OG “we can make each other worse”. You gotta be able to laugh off the trauma at dinner afterwards if you wanna hang with the air and earth hell match.

Credits: @ghoulbloggerrr for the dividers, @writhingg and @rxqueenotd for reading my clown shoes writing, and @trashmouth-richie for seeing and putting up with my foolishness in the DMs

Warnings: General debauchery and toxic relationships, referenced abuse and neglect, references to Commodus from the first movie, general talk of “pure bloodlines” because those fucking imperial families, man…, clown world

“The priests suggest that our nuptials should be delayed until the third week of Juno. Would that please you?”

You huffed. Stuck out your left hand with the gaudy gold gilt ring. A cold, steel glower— your father’s stare— marred the softness of your otherwise beautiful features.

“I am to wait so long to have my husband?” You snapped.

“It would be an auspicious month.” Geta replied, pulling you in closer to his side, “It will bode well for our union, and encourage further good omens to come.”

A gentle cough erupted from your throat, causing you to clear it. The shawl of gold and purple damask around your shoulders slipped to reveal your pink linen stola.

“Did they not read our stars?” You asked, “What of our alignments? Surely that would be auspicious enough to warrant a disregard of my illness.”

Geta laughed, readjusting your silken shawl to keep you warm.

“They certainly have read our stars.” He laughed, “We are apparently quite the… difficult match.”

He recalled the grave face of the augury when he came before the senate and the co-emperor. As predicted, the augury did indeed suggest that Geta and you wait until your current illness abated, to prevent such an omen from destroying the impending marriage.

“His majesty would do well to wait until the third week of the month of Juno to commence the marriage proceedings.” Said the old priest, “We have read both the stars of the future empress and his majesty, though… I must express my concern.”

“What is your concern?” Geta had asked, his amber eyes narrowing in anger.

“Sire… the future empress is born under the stars of Proserpina.” Said the augury, “And your excellency was born under the stars of Catamitus. The Virgin and the Cupbearer of the gods are not the… traditional match one would assume.”

“Bother tradition.” He had snapped, “I want my wife.”

There was much whispering and dissent among the members of the senate. Half wanted to call the whole thing off, for fear of the calamity such a match would bring. Yet there was a majority outcry against delaying the marriage. You were the senate’s last hope for the reclamation of the people’s favor. They looked to make you into a beacon of hope, one that would soothe the imperator’s wrath at being denied an adoption into the former imperial family’s line of succession.

As her child, your mother’s shining reputation had yet made you the successor, where Geta and his brother were yet still the empire’s pariahs. By reputation alone, you would change the tides of history. While your future husband would be the head of the empire, the senate sought to make you the neck: that you might turn Geta any way they so wished.

“But excellency… you must consider the potential disharmony from an unbalanced match.”

“And what is this disharmony?!” Demanded a member of the senate.

“Well…” said the old man, until he was interrupted by his young acolyte.

“His majesty would consider that those under Proserpina’s stars are not weak willed women.” Said the younger acolyte.

The augury attempted to speak, but Geta held up his hand to silence him.

“You.” He said, pointing to the young acolyte, “Continue.”

Riding the high of commanding the attention of the room, the young man puffed his chest out before he continued.

“Proserpina’s women are driven by logic and stability, constant and reliable as the changing of the seasons.” Said the young man, “The sons born under Catamitus-…”

The augury tried to cut in, laying his hand against the bulla of his student.

“Catamitus’ stars encourage independence and nonconformity. The antithesis to Proserpina’s proclivity to order and stability.”

“And that is true.” agreed the young acolyte, “However, it is irresponsible and inconsiderate to the imperator’s marriage to assume that logic cannot coexist with independence!”

“So you believe,” he began, “That these attributes can coexist and… what? Compliment one another?”

“My lord.” Said the acolyte, “Should Catamitus and Proserpina intersect, their union would be unstoppable.”

He spread out the well cared for charts on the marble altar, along with notations and omens that had been discovered.

“Logic and nonconformity may be to the ignorant eye a combination of oil at water,” said the young acolyte, “Yet we must not deny that those ruled by logic and reason hold the key to doors previously bolted by a warding lock.”

The young man had seemed to argue in favor of the arrangement. While Catamitus may have compelled Geta in the pursuit of pleasure and freedom, Proserpina’s stars were apparently the path that would lead you both to prosperity. It was argued that such a conjunction of strong wills could move mountains.

“Yet sire… please consider…” begged the augury, “Proserpina’s children are stubborn and unyielding. Women who will not yield to their husband’s will can only cause misfortune. The driven nature of the astrological signs are as different as the elements. Earth and air… it is unthinkable! Imbalanced.”

It was as Geta had suspected. He asserted often that he knew you were not a weak willed woman. You were every bit cunning and calculating as he had suspected you to be since your first introductions.

You were a challenge, a gamble. An obstacle.

It would be pleasing to Geta to break or make you.

“Your opinion is astute, old man.” Geta said, “And yet, I am afraid your opinion has only further stoked the flames of my passions. Perhaps it is the thrill of the hunt, or perhaps it is the thrill of having an empress that will not yield. A challenge… a gamble, if I may. I fail to see the consequences of two different elements.”

“Imperator!” He begged, “I beg of you to reconsider. Such a union would not ensure a prosperous bloodline.”

“She is the heir of Commodus, is she not?”

“Yes but…! Unification between you and the heir would bode disastrous! One would always have to yield to the other for harmony, creating conflict and strife. Matters of ego will tear the heart asunder!”

“And what would be the impediments to a harmonious unification?” Asked Geta.

“The frequent clashing of wills shall burn the empire to the ground!” Cried the augury, “You will find your wife’s overbearing arrogance a thorn in your side, and she will find your domination an affront to her vanity!”

“But consider the unification’s origin!” said his acolyte, “Their connection was, as predicted, instantaneous and deep. One would know the thoughts of the other, their collaborations in matters of state would bring the favor of the people back to the empire!”

Ruminating against the scours of papyrus and wax tablets, the youth began to make countless arguments against his teacher. Evidently, a veritable trove of good omens had been given by the gods for your impending union. Such blessings could only be bested by the fates themselves emerging from the heavens to sing prophecies at the reception after the nuptial rituals.

“Consider the omens at hand: the woman is of noble birth and pure blood, already the people look favorably upon her piety and reputation derived from the mother. The flight patterns of the swifts were also analyzed during her auspicious birth. They were trending high, a favorable omen. And…! Upon the annunciation of the imperator’s engagement, a lightning storm took place in the easternmost part of the empire. A blessing!” exclaimed the acolyte, “In reality, these nightmarish foretellings of their clash of egos are naught more than seed tilled in secret to sow doubt.”

“Foolish boy!” exclaimed the elder augury, “You do not answer the imperator’s questions, you simply seek to defend your point!”

Geta watched the two begin to argue in morbid fascination. Captivated by their arguments as though they were butchers cleaving one another to pieces. It had taken his roar to call the two to order, demanding further details of the match and why the augury was so hell bent on breaking the engagement…

“Enough…”

You waved your hand, as though you could wave away the wine tinged words of the emperor. The more he spoke of the dissenting argument that had taken place before the senate, echoing the consequences of your union, the more your stomach began to churn.

With a grimace, you pulled your shawl tighter over your chest. A shuddering sigh escaped you, and you began to retreat into some secret place within your own thoughts as your gaze lowered to the garden floor.

“My lady…” Geta probed gently, his fingertips touching your cheek, “Have I displeased you with my tale?”

“That will be enough.” You groused, trying not to cry.

Geta’s arms tightened around you possessively. There was nothing more you could do except lay there on him, your own stubborn nature trying to keep your body language lax. As if by this microaggression, you were able to rebel against he who would be your husband.

“Love…” Geta whispered, “Have the words of the augury displeased you?”

“No.” You said, nodding your head as if trying to banish the welling in your eyes, “No, why should it displease me? These things come from the gods themselves, do they not? Obviously my own ego and vanity should act as a fine shield against their poisoned barbs.”

“Is that so?”

You nodded ruefully. The circumstances of your tragic life from birth until now weighing heavily on your heart. Rejected by your mother, who saw you as a grim reminder of a traumatic conception and the loss of her son, it was as if a curse had marred your life. Venus seemed to hold her grudges, but you could not understand your transgression. Instead she punished you. Withheld love until you went looking in dark places for it. And now, it seemed because of the stars you were born under, you would not be able to find happiness even within an engagement to the debauched and disgraced emperor.

“Yes. I suppose it is true, is it not? Air and earth are two very different things, indeed. Birds are content to take wing upon the air to pursue freedom, what more does the earth below do for them? They crash upon it and die, and should their nest fall, the eggs cradled inside do not survive the impact either. Fitting, I suppose, that the gods would make my love life a farce…”

Though your words were biting and spiteful, Geta knew the declaration of the augury had cut deep. Your false smile contrasted against the tears you shook free from your eyes, trembling shoulders giving away the fact that your stone heart was crumbling into pieces.

Geta could not stand to see you in such pain. There were already countless bitter poisons poured into your cup, handed vinegar rather than wine in the form of emotional disconnect from your mother, a stepfather that was constantly away on campaign in the name of the co-imperators. Behind it all, like the miasma that made you ill, was the looming shadow of the man who had sired you; a yoke too heavy to bear alone thrown over your shoulders.

You did not deserve vinegar.

“Look at the ring I have given you.” Geta demanded suddenly.

Your laugh was bitter.

“I suppose it would make sense you would wish to call off the wedding.” You said, making to pull off the golden band, “Here, let me give it back-…”

“Hold your tongue, impudent woman. Your emperor has commanded you to look upon the band, not take it off.”

You huffed, holding it up to the sunlight– the solar rays filtered through the interstice, created by the leaves of your stepfather’s laurel tree.

“Do you know the stone setting in the band?” Geta asked, his cadence soft, almost sweet.

“It is amethyst.” You deadpanned.

“Your observation is incorrect, my lady.” Geta said smugly.

“And you are a blind fool.” You snarled, “What other stone is purple aside from amethyst?!”

“Hold your serpent’s tongue, before I order it carved out, love. Look closer.”

You reluctantly obeyed, seeing nothing more than the deep purple of the stone. The ring was the same as the day Geta had gifted it to you: a thick golden band on the second to last finger of your left hand, carved with intricate embellishments. The not-amethyst was surrounded by miniature diamonds, a rare and lovely ring that symbolized your betrothal to you opulent fiance. When your eyes drifted down along the cabochon, you noticed at one point the stone had begun to change color: an ombré of violet and indigo yielding to golden tangerine.

“What is this?!” You exclaimed, “The stone is of poor quality?!”

Geta laughed. Laughed so hard he nearly had a coughing fit trying to compose himself.

“Careful love, your acucity in the matter of precious gems will have you casting pearls before swine.” He teased, “That is not a flawed amethyst. It is something else entirely. Something that only you and I will possess.”

His large hand overlayed with yours, a matching ring containing an obnoxiously cut chunk of the same gem on his own engagement hand. The larger stone he owned captured the stark difference far more perfectly than your diminutive cut. From purple to orange, the polished cabochon gleamed like a wet, juicy grape in the sunlight next to yours.

“During one of many campaigns, my generals had bestowed upon me various rare gifts from those whose lands I have claimed for my empire.” Geta said, his free arm wrapping around your body.

“This stone was one of many curios brought to me; a spoil of war that had great significance to the ruler whose head was cleaved from his shoulders. It is not amethyst, but something else of an entirely different make. The captives of this conquered land called it ‘ametrine’.”

“Ametrine?”

He nodded.

“It is a sacred stone. An amalgamation of two entirely different rare stones: amethyst and citrine. No other mine in the world contains such a stone, and perhaps there are no more, other than the specimen that made these cabochons.”

His lips caressed the skin of your cheek. Legs curling up in pleasure, you closed your eyes as you inhaled his spiced scent of mulled wine and patchouli.

“They are cut from the same stone, my love. And are they not a perfect symbol of two different attributes? Gold and purple, purity and passion, domination and submission.”

His kisses were growing heated, tongue lathing gently upon your neck.

“It is a perfect representation for what our love will offer the other, do you not agree?” He whispered, tongue running along the length of your carotid artery, “Beauty in the joining of opposites, a prize that no one else in the world possesses, save for you and I. Our will and ego will clash spectacularly, as they already do, but does our passion not burn all the brighter?”

You shivered. His affections became more intimate, a ringed hand scraping gems over the soft skin of your breast and nipple as he reached possessively into your stola.

“We are not alike, in many ways this is true.” Geta observed, “Yet our differences complement one another, and our love is perfect.”

“… a joining of opposites, and perfect love…” you echoed.

You watched as your fingers slotted between his on both of your left hands. The band on your hand had been made in such a way that when you held hands with your beloved, your engagement ring meshed seamlessly with the gaudy gold band and large cabochon he wore. Such care and attention to detail had been taken in the creation of the wedding bands, that it looked as though the stones had not been parted at all.

It was a testament to his decadence and arrogance… but it was so like him, to have the same attention to detail that you did.

“It is fitting, isn’t it?” You asked, cuddling in closer, “The cunning and debauched emperor of Catamitus joining forces with his pious, brooding empress of Proserpina.”

“Indeed it is, my darling.” He murmured, “We are in many ways alike, wouldn’t you say? Trapped in our own individual prisons, seeking something that the other alone cannot provide…”

“I fear for the empire.” You laughed, squeezing his palm, “For I can only imagine what horrors our combined traits would produce in heirs.”

Geta’s laughter was cruel, and ugly as he held you tighter, the hand at your breast moving to touch your warm stomach.

“You are right to be afraid, my love.” He grinned, “We shall produce heirs that are not fit for this world. Ones that are both cunning and earnest, pious and debauched-…”

“A debauched, power hungry army of sons and daughters, who would have both the drive to seek power and pleasure, and the intelligence to retain it for a thousand years.” you laughed, “By the gods, Geta. Our heirs would burn the world up, and then turn the torch upon one another.”

He could see it himself. At least ten children, decuplets, perhaps half daughters, half sons. Squabbling in your womb for the right to be first conceived. Biting and constricting one another with the umbilicus until they emerged punching and kicking each other out of the womb. Throwing their toys and baubles at one another, punching and kicking until they came of age, old enough to command legions of their own to do battle on the very empire they stood to inherit.

“That they would, my love.” Geta laughed, his mind still on his nightmarish brood, “They would turn the world to ash, and use their own royal blood to slake their thirst when the lake of sanguine of their creation at last runs dry.”

“Gods have mercy.” You laughed.

Both of your shared peals of laughter echoed in the garden, an evil sound to others. But to the both of you, the sound was full of warmth and joy.

“But… but!” Geta wheezed, untangling his hand from yours as he wrapped your entire torso in his embrace, “There is yet a sweetness in the destruction.”

“A sweetness?” You laughed, looking at his flushed cheeks, “You are drunk, Geta.”

The imperator cackled again, the spicy scent of mulled wine still evident on his lips.

“Perhaps, but still consider the following: from the ashes of our children’s destruction, we can yet find potential for creation and renewal. An endless cycle of destruction and chaos from our heirs would only further occupy their time away from us.” He said.

He was barking mad. Stark raving, his senses had completely left him.

“So we would let our hell spawn burn down the world. While you and I argue, make love, clash with our egos, and generally mishandle and act like idiots?” You asked, the giggle still caught in your throat, “What of the empire? Would it not suffer?”

“Who cares? We wouldn’t be alive to see it fall, anyways.”

For a moment, there was a bit of hesitation. Sure the world had torn your heart asunder, left you alone and destitute, your heart empty of every emotion save for apathy, misanthropy, and the rare spurts of love you felt for Geta. But did the world really deserve to be turned to ash? Just because it had nearly killed you with trials and tribulations, did you really need to be flaunting your mismatched love so blatantly in front of the gods…? Surely, you thought, you should be sober and martyr yourself like your mother. Dreaming of an ideal of peace and harmony rather that discord and destruction.

But then you looked up. You saw the ash and kohl lined eyes of Geta as he grinned down at you, the mixture of white marl and cerussa crumbling in some places on his face, revealing the flush drunk cheeks underneath. His golden laurels were askew on his tangerine locks, and the pupils of his amber eyes were dilated.

You glanced down at the silk shawl you wore. Tyrian purple. The silk skeins had been a wedding gift from Geta, crates upon crates of spun silk for you to work on the warp of your loom. Already you had completed your wedding trousseau. The lack of sleep and neglect of your health was caused directly by the desire to work the skeins into something lovely.

Orange and purple. His tangerine curls, your tyrian purple shawl.

You were reminded of the ametrine ring on your finger.

A combination of two different stones.

Complementary colors.

A perfect love.

“The hell with it all.” You laughed, tossing your head back carelessly, “Let the stars of Proserpina and Catamitus create a chaotic, beautiful world.”

#emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x female reader #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #gladiator II x reader #geta #geta x reader #geta x you #gladiator movie #commodus

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lapisdeiii · 2 years ago

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"your desires,my darling?" Are you serious 😃😵‍💫🫠😳😇 AnyWAY. Your first Zhongli HC was... intense. Would you like making a second part for.. the general public 🤭 Im sure everyone would appreciate it

𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗔𝗥 𝗗𝗔𝗗𝗗𝗬 𝗭𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗟𝗜 𝗣𝗧 𝗜𝗜

SYNOPSIS : y'all asked and i am delivering again!! since you lovely gems liked my first sugar daddy zhongli headcanons, i'll just give you some more <3. these will have the same tags !!

WARNINGS : dub-con , manipulation , isolation , forced dependency , financial abuse , gn reader used, daddy kink. forced marriage. nsfw themes

A/N : i do not condone irl yanderes . if you are ever in a situation like this, talk to someone immediately . goods underneath lol

zhongli loves you, desperately so. he wants to keep you by his side, perhaps even marry you. he finds that he cannot even dream of a life without you.

but, of course, a silly little thing like you wouldn't want to stay with him for long, and move on to the next thing. what's this? you seem to have taken an interest in a boy at your college? well, that simply won't do! daddy will just have to remind you of why he is the best option!

every night he spoils you, not with just the amazing times you have in bed, but to the perfumes or cologne he purchases. everything he buys you is meant for you and you alone

he'll take you at times to a fancy dinner, but they always end up a little steamy as zhongli takes good care of you under the table, playing with you and mumbling the nastiest things as his gloved hand grips your thigh to keep it from shaking as you cum for the nth time by his hand, and close to the final climax, he pulls away his hands and he whispers that when you both get home, he'll make you a crying and whining mess on the bed. a little treat for being so well behaved and good!

he keeps you in his penthouse. you understand, don't you darling? a man like himself always gets lonely without his little gem to hold and spoil every chance he gets.

you find that at your college, nasty rumors have spread around about yourself, that you are a no good gold digger. your room was trashed, and the door to your dorm was spray painted with nasty words! you run to daddy afterwards and he consoles you, his poor baby. you have no idea it was him that spread those nasty rumors about you, daddy just wanted to make sure no one got too close to you, especially those nasty frat boys and sorority girls!

he'll try to slowly coax you out of college, you seriously don't need that degree darling, daddy will just take care of you for the rest of your life. you worry about getting older and him not loving you anymore? oh sweet thing, he loves you more than life itself, no matter how old you get, daddy will always spoil you rotten.

he'll tell you in that deep velvety rich tone, how much he loves you as he finds purchase in your hips, deeply thrusting into you as you whine and beg for him to stop, your protests muddled with whines of pleasure and need

"daddy! oh daddy hng~! stop, i can't take it any more" you whine out softly, clenching bed sheets as zhongli thrusts hard and fast into you "oh my little gem, you'll let daddy have more right? yes darling you will, mm daddy is addicted to the way you feel" zhongli's hand slides under your chest and his thumb lightly traces your nipple. at this, you let out a sweet moan. "now, daddy wants you to cum a couple more times for me, oh yes.. such a good little gem"

zhongli is a traditional man, and of course like said before, he wants to marry you. he'll pick the perfect month, the perfect day. you won't mind that daddy is an auspicious man right? he wants to marry you at the perfect time, with or without you always agreeing!

he says your relationship is special, not like the other sugar babies before! to him, they are just play things.. but you.. you are his special little gem, the only one of his sugar babies to ever catch his attention and snare him down.

his dream is to have a child with you, move you to his mansion in liyue and keep you as his cute housespouse. you'll be happy with him, he's sure of it!

these headcanons are more popular than i thought lolol!! i hope you enjoyed my gems!!

#✪juni writes #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere smut #yandere zhongli #sugar daddy zhongli #gn s/o #genshin impact zhongli #yandere genshin x reader #ur getting destroyed by zhongshlong #tw: financial abuse #tw: forced marriage

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ryin-silverfish · 9 months ago

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Could you tell us more about fox spirits? or what you know about them? Since the Kitsune is the fox spirit that people popularize the most, information on the Huli Jing is difficult to search for.

*Deep Breath*

Man, oh man. On one hand, I am fascinated by fox spirits, on the other hand, entire books have been written on them (in Chinese), and there are a staggering amount of Qing dynasty fox tales in Yuewei Caotang Biji (阅微草堂笔记) and Liaozhai Zhiyi,(聊斋志异) it's hard to know where to start.

[Previous ask about nine-tailed foxes, the duality of auspicious and demonic, and Su Daji]

Fox spirits, like any other yaoguais, is an animal that has lived long enough and absorbed enough Qi to gain sentience. Through cultivation, they can eventually gain a human form.

According to Tang folklore, they need to wear a human skull on their head while bowing to the Dipper stars/moon, without the skull falling off, in order to transform into a human.

However, foxes are also talented shapeshifters and tricksters who have this reputation for seducing humans, male and female alike.

In earlier legends, that's just their nature, but Ming and Qing tales expanded on that, stating foxes have sex with human to drain their Qi or life force, because they need those to form an Inner Core——an orb of solidified Qi that contains all of their cultivation and life force.

(Usually, it's female foxes seducing human men, because they need some of that sweet, sweet Yang force to compliment their Yin.)

(But some Ming folklore collection said that male foxes also go after guys in the guise of women, while in others, male foxes are just seducers of women.)

(Oh, and there are actual lesbian foxes in Qing legends. Like Feng Sanniang from Liaozhai Zhiyi.)

But one must keep in mind that foxes, like all yaoguais, are not inherently good or evil. For every sexual predator and Daji-like temptress, there exists a graceful scholar, a chill friend, or a lovestruck girl (Liaozhai is full of human-fox romances).

Like, there is a tale in Yuewei Caotang Biji that's just a guy chatting with his 50-60 looking fox associate about how foxes cultivate. When asked why he's so candid about this stuff, he really sums up it best:

"There are good and bad ones among our kind, just like humans. If you humans don't shy away from speaking of human evil, why should I?"

He then proceeds to talk about how legit fox cultivators collect the essence of sun and moon like any regular Daoists, while the ones that seduce human and suck away their life forces are taking a shortcut and inviting heavenly retribution in the form of thunderbolts.

Other Qing legends introduce the hilarious concept that all aspiring foxes must pass an exam organized by the Lady of Mt. Tai, to, well, earn their cultivation permit. Not even foxes are free from the clutches of imperial examinations, it seems!

Still, their old auspicious association does give rise to the archetype of "cultivator/sorcerer foxes", as well as a higher chance of recruitment into the Celestial Bureaucracy.

Which might explain why foxes were so frequently venerated in popular religion. Like, northern China has this thing called the "Five Great Immortals" (五大仙), five species of cultivated animals that people worship:

Hu (胡), Foxes

Huang (黄), Weasels

Bai (白), Hedgehogs

Liu (柳), Snakes

Hui (灰), Rats

When I travelled to the city of Pingyao, Shanxi last summer, one of the sites I visited had a Yuan dynasty building, and its second level is a shrine dedicated to the "Fox Immortal", guardian of the imperial official's seal.

Fun fact: fox spirits have a habit of impersonating Buddhas and Bodhisattvas in Tang dynasty legends. Manjusri and Maitreya seems to be the most popular choice, and in 三遂平妖传, a Ming dynasty novel, "Sagely Old Lady"(圣姑姑) the heavenly fox also impersonates Bodhisattva Samantabhadra.

So imagine my surprise when I actually encountered some foxes next to a highway during the same trip, while visiting Mt. Wutai, Manjusri's sacred mountain!

#fox spirit #huli jing #chinese folklore #foxes

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anotherhumaninthisworld · 3 months ago

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Historians having takes on frev women that make me go 😐 compilation

Sexually frustrated in her marriage to a pompous civil servant much older than herself, [Madame Roland] may have found Danton’s celebrated masculinity rather uncomfortable. Danton (1978) by Norman Hampson, page 77.

The Robespierres sent their sister to Arras because that was their hometown, the family home, where they had relatives, uncles, aunts and friends, like Buissart who they didn’t cease to remain in correspondence with, even in the middle of the Terror. There, among them, Charlotte would not be alone; she would find advice, rest, the peace necessary to heal her nervousness and animosity. Away from Mme Ricard, who she hated, away from Mme Duplay, who she detested, she would enjoy auspicious calmness. It is Le Bon that the Robespierres will charge with escorting their sister to this neccessary and soothing exile. […] If there is a damning piece in Charlotte Robespierre's case, it is this one (her interrogation, held July 31 1794). She seems to be caught in the act of accusing this Maximilien whom she rehabilitates in her Memoirs. She is therefore indeed a hypocrite, unworthy of the great name she bears, and which she dishonors the very day after the holocaust of 10 Thermidor. Charlotte Robespierre et Guffroy (1910) in Annales Révolutionnaires, volume 3 (1910) page 322, and Charlotte Robespierre et ses mémoires (1909) page 93-94, both by Hector Fleishmann.

Elisabeth, as she was popularly called, was barely past her twelfth birthday, younger even by three years than Barere’s own mother when she was given in marriage. On the following day the guests assembled again in the little church of Saint-Martin at midnight to attend the wedding ceremony of the handsome charmer and the bewildered child. Dressed in white, clasping in her arms a yellow, satin-clad doll that Bertrand had given her — so runs the tradition — she marched timidly to the altar, looking more like a maiden making her first communion than a woman celebrating a binding sacrament. Perhaps the doll, if doll there was, filled her eye, but certainly she could not fail to note how handsome her husband was. Bertrand Barere; a reluctant terrorist (1962) by Leo Gershoy, page 32.

The young nun who bore the name of Hébert did not hide her fate. She did not wish to prolong a life stifled from her childhood in the cloister, branded in the world by the name she bore, fighting between horror and love for the memory of her husband, unhappy everywhere. Histoire des Girondins (1848) by Alphonse de Lamartine, volume 8, page 60.

Lucile in prison showed more calmness than Camille. Before the tribunal, she seemed to possess neither fear nor hope, she denied having taken an active role in the prison conspiracy. What did it matter to her the answer they were trying to extract from her? They said they wanted her guilty? Very well! She would be condemned and join Camille. This was what she said again when she was told that she would suffer the same fate as her husband: ”Oh, what joy, in a few hours I’m going to see Camille again!” Camille et Lucile Desmoulins: un couple dans la tourmente (1986) by Jean Paul Bertaud, page 293.

What did it matter to Lucile whether she was accused or defended? She had no longer any pretext for living in this world. She was one of those heroines of conjugal love who are more wife than mother. Besides, Horace lived, and Camille was dead. It was of the absent only that she thought. As for the child, would not Madame Duplessis act a mother's part to him? The grandmother would watch over the orphan. If Lucile had lived, she could have done nothing but weep over the cradle, thinking of Camille. Camille Desmoulins and his wife; passages from the history of the Dantonists founded upon new and hitherto unpublished documents (1876) by Jules Claretie.

Having been widowed at the age of 23 [sic] years, Élisabeth Duplay remarried a few years later to the adjutant general Le Bas, brother of her first husband, and kept the name which was her glory. She lived with dignity, and all those who have known her, still beautiful under her crown of white hair, have testified to the greatness of her sentiments and austerity of her character. She died at an old age, always loyal to the memory of the great dead she had loved and whose memory she, all the way to her final day, didn’t cease to honor and cherish. As for the lady of Thermidor, Thérézia Cabarrus, ex-marquise of Fontenay, citoyenne Tallien, then princess of Chimay, one knows the story of her three marriages, without counting the interludes. She had, as one knows, three husbands living at the same time. Now compare these two existances, these two women, and tell me which one merits more the respect and the sympathy of good men. Histoire de Robespierre et du coup d’état du 9 thermidor (1865) by Louis Ernest Hamel, volume 3, page 402.

Fel free to comment which one was your favorite! 😀

#frev #french revolution #frev compilation #hampson: if women were uncomfortable around danton it’s because they were sexually frustrated!#fleishmann: two men in their 30s can ultimately decide what’s best for their sister who’s also in her 30s #also it’s totally unreasonable for charlotte to disown her brothers after their death when her life was possibly in danger #(and even though they pretty much disowned her while they were still alive)#lamartine claretie bertaud: françoise and lucile wanted to die since there was no longer any point to their lives after the husbands died #hamel: a good way of finding out which side was bad and which side was good is to look over how slutty the women on each side were #wow are you seriously surprised the view of women held by 19th century authors isn’t exactly top modern?#…no comment #claretie should technically get a pass since he thought the journal of sanson was an authentic source #But it was so spectacular i couldn’t contain myself #also a shame i couldn’t remember where i read the interpretation that the reason simond évrard was wary of charlotte corday #was bc she might seduce marat when alone with him

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xxplastic-cubexx · 23 days ago

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you should post screenshots of all the marvel rivals magneto lore for those of us who don’t have the game 👀

"Max Eisenhardt was born with a near-limitless Mutant ability to manipulate magnetic fields. Suffering a lifetime of brutal persecution, Magneto made it his mission to ensure the survival of Mutantkind, no matter the cost. His unyielding crusade often puts him at odds with other Mutants who seek more peaceful ways to coexist with humanity. Magneto led the campaign to gather the planet's Mutant population and transport them decades into the future to a safe haven on the sentient island Krakoa, protecting his brethren from the growing dangers of the wider world."

magneto lore description + his signature :) i'll come back to reblog and add to this post as the rest of the stories are unlocked!

full Trial of Magneto story below the cut screenshotted AND typed up by Yours Truly

As he gazed off into the distance towards the line where the ocean met the sky, Magneto's cape fluttered gently in the calm breeze that was drifting across the coast of the sentient island nation of Krakoa. His was a life far longer than most people ever had the chance to live, and this was one of the few moments of true peace that he could recall. But he knew from experience it would not last for long. It never did.

"Something on your mind, old man?" a familiar voice asked from above, breaking the silence. As Magneto glanced up, there, hovering on the wind like a majestic goddess, was Ororo Munroe -- the Mutant weather manipulator known as Storm.

"Funny, isn't it," mused Magneto, "that we fought all those years for a better future for Mutantkind... and now we have finally found it, further in the future than any of us ever imagined."

Not so long ago, the sovereign nation of Krakoa had been swept up in a chronal storm -- a time-twisting anomaly that would have ripped the island to bits if not for Ororo's deft manipulation of its tumultuous currents. Instead of becoming lost in the timestream forever, Krakoa arrived safely on the other side of the tempest in the year 2099. The future that Mutantkind had always dreamed of was finally theirs to claim. And Magneto was never one to let such an auspicious opportunity pass him by.

"It matters not what century we are in," Storm said. "What matters is that our people have a home here on Krakoa, thanks to you, Erik..."

Magneto cringed as his old friend called him by his human name. True, he had gone by many of them over the decades -- Max Eisenhardt, Erik Lehnsherr, Magnus -- but they were monikers he had merely tolerated in order to better fit into a world where Homo Sapiens still believed themselves in control. Here, in this new era, he could choose a name that spoke to who he truly was. Magneto -- the Mutant Master of Magnetism.

"I may be leading the cause to find our fellow Mutants and bring them to this safe harbor, my dear," said Magneto, "but the success of this crusade cannot be attributed to one Mutant alone."

"You're damn right it can't, bub," a grizzled voice snarled from the edge of the jungle that bordered Krakoa's shore.

Magneto and Storm both turned to see a familiar figure walking out of a newly-blossomed Krakoan gate. The short, hairy figure looked as though he had just been to hell and back. And knowing Wolverine, that could very literally be the case. Alongside Wolverine stood a young Mutant, just old enough for her powers to begin manifesting.

"Found the kid who got sucked through that dimensional rift," Wolverine continued. "She's lucky I went in there after her. Limbo is no place for a new Mutant."

"I couldn't disagree more," another voice said, this one with a hint of a Russian accent. "This New Mutant has managed just fine there."

"Illyana? Can it truly be?!" Storm rushed over to the young woman who had just stepped through the gateway, instantly wrapping her in an embrace. For years, Illyana Rasputin, the Mutant teleporter known as Magik, had been like a daughter to Storm. Before she was claimed by the darkness of Limbo... Before...

"Nice to see you too, Windrider," said Magik with an uncomfortable smirk. "It's been... longer than I care to remember."

Magneto stepped towards the new arrival, not embracing her, but examining her closely instead. There was something strange about her. It was clear that she had walked a far different path than the Illyana Rasputin of his world. This child had been hardened by the horrors of war, something to which Magneto himself could closely relate.

"You are not the child we once knew," Magneto said. "But you are welcome here on Krakoa. All Mutants are, regardless from where or when they hail."

"How about people who grew up thinking they were Mutants, only to h ave their entire world turned upside down when they learned the truth years later...?"

Magneto audibly gasped as the question was asked by another woman who had just arrived through the Krakoan gateway. His gaze instantly shifted over to her as she walked forward. Her every step stirred ripples across his memory, for he had been there when she had taken her very first ones so many years ago.

"Wanda..."

"Hello, father," the Scarlet Witch said as she approached Magneto with a calm confidence that few had ever shown in his presence. She reached up and began to slowly remove Magneto's helmet, an action that would almost certainly be met with instant retaliation should anyone else attempt it. But Magneto stood as silent as solid steel, simply basking in the magic of his long lost daughter's company. His stoic expression softened as Wanda leaned in and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

"How... How can you be here?" Magneto managed to say. He could bend Adamantium into any shape with his Mutant power, but these simple words were somehow nearly impossible to form.

"It took a bit of work," Wanda mused. "I'm not technically a Mutant like you, after all, which means Krakoa wouldn't normally let me through its gates. But a touch of chaos magic did the trick."

"What I meant to say is..."

"Oh..." Wanda's playful tone vanished faster than a stage magician's pet rabbit. "Your Wanda... She's gone, isn't she? I'm sorry... This must be difficult..."

"Quite the opposite," Magneto said, regaining his composure. "To see your face again, to hear your voice, to know that -- somewhere in this fast Multiverse a version of you has thrive -- is perhaps the least difficult thing I could ever conceive. It is all that any father ever wants."

"I wouldn't say I've been thriving, exactly," Wanda admitted. "I've been holding my own universe together by its threads for far too long. I truly believed that I was its only hope to survive."

"Like father, like daughter," chuckled Wolverine.

"But I've started to see the bigger picture," Wanda continued. "We're all fighting our own wars. The only chance we have of winning them and keeping ll of our universes intact is if we start fighting together."

"Speakin' of fightin', I'm late for a date with Natasha," Wolverine said. "We've got ourselves a tin-plated dictator that needs overthrowin'."

Magneto almost chastised Wolverine for entrenching himself in the petty squabbles between the humans of this era, but he paused for a moment and considered his daughter's words. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps his own war to preserve Mutantkind was just one battle of many, all of them equally important.

"Since Krakoa arrived in this future, my allegiance has been to Mutantkind alone," said Magneto. "I felt it best to isolate our people in order to protect them. But your words inspire me, my dear. It is clear that no Mutant is an island."

"Except Krakoa, da?" Magik chimed in playfully.

"In order to commit to such an alliance, however, it must be a mutually beneficial one," Magneto continued. "There are still Mutants out there, lost across space and time, who require out assistance in order to lead them home."

"That sounds like the perfect task for a Sorceress Supreme," Wanda said. "But I'll require your help. As fond as I am of your classic look, I think we're in need of use a helmet that's a bit more functional."

"Of course," Magneto said, raising his hand into the air. Within moments, tiny scraps of metal buried beneath the sand of Krakoa's beaches converged and reshaped themselves in a complex yet familiar device once worn by Charles Xavier himself -- Cerebro.

"If I recall, old school Cerebro was capable of tracking down Mutants anywhere in the world," said Wanda. "But a few arcane enhancements should expand the helmet's search area to include adjacent dimensions as well. Like you said, all Mutants are welcome here, regardless from where or when they hail."

"Well?" said Magik, her eyes burning with anticipation. "Try it on already, old man!"

The moment Magneto put on the helmet, he saw flashes of powerful Mutants scattered across the Multiverse. A telepathic ninja trapped in a strange world of unholy amusements. A king of the seas preparing to strike at the unsuspecting surface world. A powerful cosmic presence determined to burn the darkness out of the night sky. And thousands more, each yearning to defy fate and to find their place in an ever-shifting cavalcade of timelines and realities.

"There is much work to be done," Magneto said. "Far more than I expected. When do we begin?"

"No time better than the present..." said Magik. "Or the future, I guess. Wherever we are."

"You have given Mutants a gift this day, Wanda," Magneto said proudly. "Your efforts will not be forgotten."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Wanda replied. "And when the time comes, the army that you're about to gather may very well be the one that tips the balance in our favor."

"Then let this be a call to all Mutants across time and space," Magneto continued. "The gates of Krakoa are open to them. In the words of a dear old friend..."

"...to me, my X-Men."

#marvel rivals #magneto #snap chats #ngl im kinda bummed he did his signature in krakoan but also why the hell is it so perfect we got death the kid over here #its also funny how he apparnetly doesnt like his human names but he signs off with max eisenhardt anyway. lol.#girl you can put magneto if you want who gaf #also do you see what i mean when i said theres like. A Weird Distancing of charles #like girl where is he ... what happened ... no mention of what happened to him he just not here ...#why the hell is cerebro in pieces ... erik did you come to the beach specifically because you knew the cerebro pieces were here #in the words of my brother 'whenever one of them [erik/charles] is on a beach nothing good happens' jveaLVKJEAVJE #anyway ! please enjoy and lemme know yalls thoughts if you have any #if you want me to get anything else from the game let me know :] i can get videos too if youre tryna get a clip of something

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